It Was Only Time
by Cheburashka1
Summary: Brian thinks he has lost Justin in the bombing, not realizing that he has moved to New York. They meet again years later and realize that its far from over between them. But can they fix the mistakes of the past and find their way to a future together?
1. A New Place

**It Was Only Time**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing belongs to me – everything QAF belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**

**Summary: Brian thinks he has lost Justin in the bombing, not realizing that he has unexpectedly moved to New York. For the next three years they live their lives apart. They meet again and realize that its far from over between them...But can they fix the mistakes of the past and find their way to a future together?**

**A/N #1: This is my very first fanfic ever! Actually, this is my very first attempt at writing anything remotely fictional. I "discovered" QAF a month ago and totally fell in love with the show and all the characters. The ending was so heartbreaking that I literally felt compelled to come up with my own version. For some reason the idea of Justin leaving before Brian could finally declare his love lodged itself into my brain and wouldn't let go, so the story went from there and took a life of its own. I realize that some chapters are too dialogue heavy, others not so much; some chapters are rather short, while others are too long. So, please bear with me while I figure out this whole writing thing.**

**A/N #2: The story is as true to cannon as I could make it, that is until S5 Ep10. I may have changed the time line a little and pretty much made a lot of things post S5 Ep10 disappear. I am trying to stay as close to character as possible, while at the same time reflecting on the changes that the bombing had on Brian and everyone else, and the move to NYC had on Justin. **

**A/N #3: The story is turning out to be long. At the end will probably be somewhere between 40-45 chapters. I sincerely hope that someone reads it and sticks with it. Please read AND review! My writing needs all the help it can get! :)**

**A/N #4: Does have strong language – this is QAF after all. **

**P.S. This is the one and only time there will be this many author's notes (they will also be at the end of chapters from now on). I promise! Please read and review.**

**Chapter I - A New Place**

That Thursday morning, Brian was driving to work when he saw Justin stapling posters to a bulletin board by the bus stop on Liberty. He stopped the car on the corner and watched him through the rain streaked car window. A few minutes later Justin noticed him and came over.

"Morning, Sunshine. Heard you moved to a new place."

"Yeah, a studio at Highpoint Towers."

"Christ, Justin, that's just about the worst neighborhood in Pittsburgh! What the hell were you thinking?"

"It's not my dream country manor with stables and a pool, I know, but it's all mine and it's all I can afford at the moment. Hopefully, not for long…"

"A country manor with stables and a pool, huh?" He said smirking.

"Well, if you have to dream, dream big! Besides, judging by your loft, you are the one who spoiled me on all that fine living."

"Right…Listen, I can loan you the money for…"

"No!" Justin sharply cut him off "Thanks, but I'll do this on my own. I'll be fine, really. Anyway, I guess I'll see you at the fundraiser tomorrow?"

"No, I'll be busy getting a tan down under and a little bit on top."

"You are going to Australia?"

"For the gay Mardi Gras – it is the gayest place on earth, other than Disney World, of course."

"Of course… " Justin laughed "Later, than…"

"Later…" Brian watched Justin walk away with a casual wave and his ever-present, sunny smile, not realizing that it will be a long, long time before he'll see it directed at him again.

It was so Brian to go to the gay Mardi Gras instead of a fundraiser, Justin thought, ruefully shaking his head. A very Brian thing to do and shouldn't really be surprising, yet somehow it still was. His thoughts were interrupted by his ringing cell phone.

"Justin, where are you right now?" Lindsay fairly screamed in his ear.

"Lindsay? I'm on Liberty, hanging change of venue posters for the fundraiser tomorrow. Why?"

"Drop everything and meet me at the gallery ASAP. I have some news, some very exciting news that you need to hear right away!"

"Well, tell me!"

"Oh, no! This has got to be done face-to-face. You won't regret it, I promise!"

"Listen, I am pretty much done with the posters here, so I might as well finish. I'll meet you at the gallery in 30, is that OK?"

"I guess I can contain myself a little while longer. Hurry!"

Justin had no idea what to think of it, but judging by Lindsay's voice, it was bound to be something big. He wondered why Brian hasn't said anything, but maybe he hasn't known. One thing was for certain; Justin loved surprises and couldn't wait to find out what Lindsay had in store.

At the same time, a slightly perturbed Brian was on the phone with Jennifer:

"How the hell could you let him move into a dump like that? You are a realtor, for fuck's sake, couldn't you find him a better rental?"

"Cool your jets there, Brian! You know as well as I do that once Justin makes up his mind about something it's next to impossible to convince him otherwise. He found the place himself, he borrowed money from Michael for the deposit himself and was moved in before I even knew anything about it. Like it or not, Justin is an adult now and it's been years since I've had any kind of control over him. You are right about one thing though, it is a dump. Actually, calling it a dump is high praise indeed. Have you seen it?"

"No."

"It has no kitchen, no private bathroom - he has to share it with other unfortunates living there. The apartment, if you can call it that, is on the 9th floor and the elevator's been broken for months. I was horrified from the moment I set foot in the place, but Justin is happy as a clam that it has huge windows that let it lots of light and the room is big enough for his painting. I offered, begged really, to find him a better place and pay for the relocation. He categorically refused! Keeps talking about it being the first step towards a country manor…"

"With stables and a pool….yeah, so I've heard…"

"Bottom line, he is refusing to move and I doubt that even you will be able to change his mind, especially since you've broken up again. I'm sorry about that, by the way. One thing I know is that he's determined to stand on his own two feet. On the one hand I am really proud of him; on the other hand I am terrified."

"How long do you think he plans to live there?"

"He signed a 6 month lease and hopes to have enough money saved up to move somewhere better after. Trust me on this, Brian, I did all I could to convince him to move."

"I hear you. Thanks, Jennifer. Bye!" Brian hung up seething. Justin won't be living in that hellhole for long, if he has anything to say about it, he thought. He wanted to call Michael, but since Mickey still refused to speak to him he decided against it and called Ben instead. Ben confirmed that they helped Justin get into the studio; however, he said that the money they gave him wasn't a loan, but a gift. They told him not to worry about paying it back and instead save the cash for a better apartment. Thank God for small graces, Brian thought. Next on his list was Lindsay:

"Linds, do you have a minute? Good." He said, not waiting for a reply "Was Justin's painting sold at the show?"

"Yes, actually, he did really, really well. Why?"

"Well, I wanted to buy the painting for, say, $2000."

"Why? I thought you two broke up."

"Have you heard about the new place he's moved into? Broken up or not, I still want him safe and living in someplace half-way habitable. He let Michael and Ben help him a little, but he is refusing help from anyone else and wants to save money for a better place himself. So I thought getting two grand for one of his paintings would go a long way towards getting him out of that dump quicker. If I bought the piece anonymously through the gallery, he'd accept the money and no one would be the wiser."

"Wow, Brian! I know how much you love…"

"Give it a rest, Linds!"

"Fine! Actually, he does have two other pieces similar to the one we chose for the opening. The composition is completely different, but thematically, stylistically, they are similar. There was significant interest in his work, so I can honestly say that I've mentioned those pieces to several people. There's no reason why someone wouldn't want to acquire at least one of them."

"Good, I'll have the check dropped off at the gallery this afternoon."

"What about the paintings? Don't you want to see them? Which one do you want to buy? What about delivery?"

"I'm acquiring both and I'll have Cynthia arrange everything. And Linds, not a word of this to Justin or anyone else, ok?"

"I promise. See you at the fundraiser tomorrow?"

"Fortunately for me, I will be on my way to Sydney tomorrow for Mardi Gras. Bye, Wendy!"

"Bye, Peter!"

Content that his work here was done, Brian put the Corvette in drive and sped off towards the office.


	2. Opportunities

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 2 – Opportunities**

When Justin walked in to the Sidney Bloom Gallery, Lindsay launched herself at him and gave him a crushing hug.

"Lindsay, you better tell me what's going on, you are freaking me out a little."

"Let's go to the office and you'd better sit down. First, the other two paintings you showed me before the show, the ones I didn't pick. Well, they sold today for $2000 each."

"You are kidding me! That's amazing, but how? They weren't shown, they…"

"There was a lot of interest in your work, so I took the liberty of showing the prints you left with me to an interested party. I'll have the check later this afternoon and the gallery will take care of transport and everything."

"Who bought them?"

"It was done through a company representative on behalf of the owner, who prefers to remain anonymous."

"Please don't tell me that Brian's involved. I…"

"He's not." Lindsay lied, inwardly wincing "If it was Brian, he would've offered a heck of a lot more money for your work. Didn't you tell me that he offered you five thousand for a pencil sketch once? Anyway, we have more important things to discuss."

"More important than two of my paintings being sold for four grand, sight unseen? This I've got to hear! Well, don't keep me in suspense…"

"The review in Art Forum, well, lets just say people paid attention, important people. One of them is a friend of mine from The Dozier Gallery in New York. She wants to meet you and take a look at your portfolio. They are having an Emerging Artists Showcase at the end of March and she hopes to include some of your pieces, plural. She has time to meet with you on Monday morning. This is an enormous opportunity for you, Justin. So, I told her you'd be there. I hope I did the right thing."

"I don't know what to say…Of course, I'll be there… Do you really think they'll include something?"

"Yes, I do. You usually have more confidence in yourself and your art, Justin."

"Yeah, I…I think I am in shock. Anyway, even if nothing comes of it, it's another professional opinion. Of course, I'll be there! Did you say you had another thing to tell me?"

"Have you ever heard of the Arthur Loring Gallery?"

"Ah, who hasn't?"

"Well, anyone who's not interested in the art world, for instance. Anyway, I got you a job interview there." Justin didn't think he could be any more surprised.

"What? A job at Arthur Loring's? But, I don't have a degree or any gallery work experience. I…How…"

"I sang you praises, said that you know more about art than most people twice your age, etc, etc. And the job is nothing too glamorous – just as an assistant. You'll probably be making copies and coffee, but you'll make wonderful contacts, meet people, you will learn a lot and have a real chance to help your career, I guarantee it. In any case, I didn't get you the job, just an interview. You'll have to impress Arthur Loring all by yourself, which I am sure you'll do. What do you think?"

Justin shook his head in bewilderment and said: "When's the interview?"

"Tomorrow morning at 9 am, you'll have to miss the fundraiser at Babylon. There's a flight out to New York at 3 o'clock this afternoon, I hope you'll be on it."

"Today, you want me to leave today...And if I get the job that means I'll be moving to New York." Justin said uncertainly.

"Why are you hesitating?" Lindsay looked at him in surprise, "Scratch that, I know why. Or should I say who?"

"Brian" they said in unison. Justin was silent for a few minutes, thinking.

"It's never going to work between us, will it, Linds? He's never going to give me what I want and I can't spend the rest of my life waiting. It's just that...I don't know what to do."

"If you want my honest opinion, I truly believe that Brian does love you, very much. I also truly believe that he will never realize it or won't let himself realize it. So, you are right, he won't give you what you want, which is sad and unfair. I also know that you are young, Justin, and you have a talent that deserves to be shown to the world. This showcase is an opportunity of a lifetime, so is this potential job. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't throw this chance away for someone like Brian Kinney. But, the decision is ultimately yours to make. I know it's a lot to take in, but..."

"OK. OK, you are right. I know you are right. God, this is happening so fast, my head is spinning! What do I do first? Plane tickets, then I need to call my mother. I'll have to find a place to stay…Wait, Daphne…"

"Justin, stop!" Lindsay laughed "Don't worry about the plane tickets, that's my present to you and I won't take no for an answer! And I will help you with anything else you might need until your flight, so will the rest of your friends and family. I know Brian for one will…"

"No, Lindsay, not Brian. He's getting ready to go to Australia anyway."

"Right. OK, but we'll call everyone else. Let's get started."

In the end, only Jennifer, Debbie and Daphne, along with Lindsay were able to come to Justin's "rescue" on such short notice and help him with last minute preparations before his flight. Justin got on a plane with a huge smile on his face and Debbie's "Good luck, Sunshine! Knock'em dead!" still ringing in his ears.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**


	3. Upheaval

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 3 – Upheaval **

Friday evening Brian got into the waiting car: "Is my flight on time?"

"Yes, Mr. Kinney." said the driver. Brian got a newspaper and settled in for the drive to the airport. Half-way through the trip a bulletin on the radio broke through with devastating news:

"_This just in from WDBX news, there's been an explosion at Babylon, a local gay club, where a political fundraiser was underway tonight. Authorities fear there's been many injuries, possibly fatalities. They say there's no word yet as to the cause…."_

"Turn around!" Brian ordered.

The ride to Babylon seemed to go on forever. Brian's mind was reeling, he was on the phone trying to reach Justin, but couldn't get through. When he finally got to the club, he couldn't believe his eyes. The building was still standing, but there was some rubble around, soot and smoke were everywhere and part of the building was on fire. Chaos seemed to reign all around; there were fire trucks, paramedics, police and people, both injured and not. Brian looked everywhere, but everyone he knew was nowhere to be found. Frantic, he ran into the building, screaming Justin's name, shocked by the destruction inside. When he saw a dead body being covered with a sheet by a paramedic, his panic reached new heights. Suddenly, he saw Ted hugging his date:

"Ted, Ted, what the fuck happened? Where's Justin?" Ted just shook his head, unable to answer. Then Emmett staggered towards them:

"Ted, oh honey, there you are. I was so worried."

"Emmett, have you seen Justin? Where's Justin?"

Before Emmett could answer, a spark set off a minor explosion and the firefighters ordered everyone to leave the structure immediately. Brian tried to stay and search for Justin, but was prevented by the firefighters, one of whom restrained him and physically removed him from the building. Brian lost track of both Ted and Emmett and started looking for Justin among the people outside, when he suddenly saw Jennifer being treated by a paramedic. He ran up to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, throwing the paramedic out of the way:

"Jennifer, where's Justin? I can't find him, where is he?"

She waived the outraged paramedic away, looked at Brian's anxious face and said:

"New York, he's in New York. He wasn't here." Brian's legs suddenly gave out and he sank to his knees, clutching Jennifer's hands.

"Not here? New York? So, he's OK? Oh, thank God! Thank God!"

Then a gurney carrying a badly injured Michael came into view and Brian was galvanized into action once again. The next several hours seemed to either spin in a fast blur of paramedics, doctors, nurses and worried faces, or to slow down to an interminable crawl punctuated by tense silence and dozens of cups of bad hospital coffee. Once Michael was out of surgery and the doctor was cautiously optimistic about his prognosis, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the weekend, Brian, along with the rest of the family spent most of their time at the hospital. He tried calling Justin a few times, but kept getting his voice mail. He always hung up, wanting to speak to him in person. Monday morning Brian saw Jennifer at the hospital and to her utter shock gave her an enthusiastic hug.

"When's Justin coming back? I tried calling him, but his phone seems to be turned off."

"So you don't know?" Jennifer asked in surprise.

"Know what?"

"He isn't coming back Brian. Lindsay helped him get a job interview at an art gallery there and another gallery wanted to look at his portfolio for a show next month. I just talked to him - he got both the job and the show. He wanted to come back right after the bombing and then again today, but I convinced him to stay in New York. He agreed to accept my help this time; you know paying to break his current lease and to transport his belongings. Lindsay is going to help me get his paintings properly packed. For all intents and purposes he has moved to New York, Brian, hopefully for good."

Brian was stunned.

"Justin moved to New York? Lindsay?" Without another word, he turned around and stormed off.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**


	4. Letting Go

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 4 – Letting Go**

Brian found Lindsay at home, the gallery being closed on Mondays. When she opened the door, he pushed past her and angrily walked inside.

"Brian, what's wrong?"

"You made him move to New York, why? How?" he demanded.

Lindsay sighed, "I'm surprised it's taken you this long to ask. Have you seen this?" She handed him the article in Art Forum magazine. Brian read the review in silence.

"The show overall was rather successful," She continued "but Justin's work got the most buzz and the most attention. After this review came out on Tuesday, I got several phone calls from acquaintances in New York who are interested in his work. One was from a sorority sister who's a curator at the Arthur Loring gallery. I mentioned that Justin was going to New York, she misunderstood and thought he was moving there. She said she could possibly get him a job at her gallery, as long as he nails the interview with the owner. It seemed too good a chance to pass up and of course, Justin got the job. Also another gallery wanted to see his entire portfolio. They want five piece for an Emerging Artists Showcase they are having next month. Five pieces, Brian, that is a huge deal! He needs to be in New York – it's the center of the art world in my opinion. He is so very, very talented; he'll stagnate here in Pittsburgh."

"I know he's talented, why do you think I keep shelling out cash for his stuff, but that's me. Do you think he's really good enough to make it there?"

"Come here," Lindsay led him into the dining room where a new painting hung on the wall, "This was Justins' gift to us for our 10th anniversary. When Mel looked at it she said that it made her feel a bit like Gertrude Stein."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Like having a Picasso, before he became Picasso."

"He's that good?" Brian asked studying the painting.

"He has the potential and the talent to be. Listen, one great review does not a career make, we both know that Brian. But, it sure as hell does open the lock to the New York art world. The job at a prestigious gallery such as Arthur Lorings' and the Emerging Artists Showcase will open the door just enough that, hopefully, Justin will wedge his foot in. The rest is up to him and his talent. There are hundreds of artists littering the streets of New York, most of them, if not all, would sell their soul for this kind of opportunity. It would be monumentally stupid of him to pass it up."

"I know. Where will he live?"

"Justin got lucky there. Daphne's friend September is a student in NYU and has a rent control apartment in the Village. Her roommate graduated, got a job in Boston and will be moving out. Justin is taking over her room and her half of the lease. He's staying on their couch at the moment."

"Well…that's it then…It's settled…"

Brian stood there, still studying at the painting and didn't say anything for a few minutes. When he spoke again, he talked so quietly, it was as if he spoke to no one but himself.

"I was on my way to the airport when I heard about the bombing. I called his cell and didn't get an answer. I was so fucking scared! All I could think was "please, don't let anything happen to him"…I thought I've lost him until Jennifer told me he was in New York. It took a tragedy worse than his bashing for me to realize that he is the fucking love of my life and I will say anything, do anything, be anything just to make him happy. I thought he was in New York for the weekend, just for some fun. I couldn't wait for him to come back so that I could finally tell him what he means to me, to ask him to spend the rest of his life with me…I even bought rings, can you believe it? It's ironic, just when I get finally ready for a serious commitment, for fucking marriage, it turns out to be too late and I've lost him anyway."

"Oh God, Brian… Finally! And it's never too late - you should tell him now and stop wasting anymore time!"

"And what do you think will happen?" Brian abruptly turned around "He won't take the job, he'll throw away this chance of a lifetime and he'll come back here to fucking Pittsburgh to be with me, you and I both know it! It'll be great for a while, but eventually he'll resent the fact that once again he gave things up for me."

"Don't you think he has the right to know how you feel and decide for himself?" Lindsay countered.

"Listen to me, are you listening? For the past five years I've been selfish. I thought of nothing but my wants and my needs. He has been patient with me for over four years, waiting for me to grow up or at least grow a pair and admit that I love him. No, I am done being selfish where Justin is concerned. For once I am going to do the right thing, the right thing for him and let him go."

"Brian, this is stupid, you love each other! New York isn't exactly the moon. Its not too far away, you can work something out."

"Are you seriously suggesting a long distance relationship, Lindsay? I may have changed my mind about marriage, at least when it comes to Justin, but I still think that long distance relationships are a crock of shit and are doomed to fail. Even if we go that route, what would we do? I'll go visit him on weekends, he'll come back here on occasion and when exactly will he paint? At first it'll be a novelty, then it'll be a distraction and then it will become work and we'll break up anyway."

"Any relationship is work, goddamn it! You think that whatever you've had for the past few years hasn't been work? It certainly has been for Justin." Lindsay threw the magazine on the couch in frustration.

"Yeah, and look how that turned out. No, I won't do that to him or to us and I won't take this chance away from him."

"If you would do and be anything for him, why don't you move to New York?"

"I would sell the club and the loft today and leave without hesitation, if it wasn't for Kinnetik. I can't close the company down and go work for someone else, Linds. That's not me anymore and I have people working for me now. And I can't move Kinnetik to New York; it won't survive there, not yet. Maybe in a few years when we are more established it'll be possible, but not now."

"When you put it like that… But Brian, this is so unfair! You both so deserve to be happy and, damn it, together! But…but…God, I hate saying this, but maybe you are right. If it were me, if I had even a quarter of Justin's talent, I wouldn't give up a chance like this. I would jump on this opportunity and wring it dry. I am certain that he can make it out there; I believe in him that much! I am also certain that he loves you so much that he'll give it all up without thinking twice and stay in Pittsburgh. He can have an art career here too, he can, but it won't be the same and it won't be what his talent deserves."

"Then we agree, we keep this between us? Not a word, Linds, not even to Mel, OK?"

"OK." Lindsay nodded "OK, if that's what you want." She said enveloping him in a tight embrace.

"Thanks, Wendy" Brian mumbled into her shoulder.

"Oh, Peter, I think you finally grew up despite your best intentions…Are you going to be OK?"

"I'm Brian fucking Kinney, I'll survive."

"God, I hope you know what you are doing."

"I always do." Brian said and left.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**


	5. Gesture

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 5 – Gesture**

After leaving Lindsay's Brian drove around Pittsburgh aimlessly for what seemed like hours, lost in thought. He ended up parked across the street from the corner where he first saw Justin four and a half years ago. He remembered that night, the damp street and the steam rising from the manholes in the ground. He remembered being impatient to leave, reaching for the door of the Jeep and then something in the corner of his eye stopped him in his tracks. Brian still couldn't figure out what it was about Justin that night that grabbed his attention so completely and pulled him forward as if on an invisible thread, and kept pulling him again, and again over the years. It wasn't just generic "lust at first sight", he experienced that practically on a daily basis - it was more, something akin to a recognition. He sat in the car trying to remember every detail, wishing that he wasn't as drunk or as high as he was that night; wishing he could remember everything clearly, but parts of it remained hazy and dreamlike.

Eventually he decided that sitting in the car brooding was useless and stupid. He felt like doing something, so he drove to Jennifer's town house. He convinced Jennifer to let him buy out Justin's lease and pay for the transport of his belongings and artwork to New York.

"Why are you doing this?" Jennifer asked frowning.

"It's my final gesture of goodwill. I truly wish that Justin gets the success he deserves and gets everything he dreams of."

"What will you get Brian?"

"An excellent return on my investment."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"As of last week I own three works by one Justin Taylor. I am certain they'll be worth a fortune in 10 or 20 years, don't you think?" He said with his usual smirk.

"Brian, was there a time that you loved my son at all? Not just liked him, or were fond of him, or lusted for him, or cared for him, but truly loved him?"

Brian looked at Jennifer and said "I'll take care of everything with Justin's apartment and his belongings. Don't worry about a thing and, please, let's keep this between us. OK?" - And walked out without waiting for a reply.

Jennifer was awoken by her ringing cell phone at one o'clock in the morning.

"Jennifer Taylor…" she answered groggily.

"It's Brian. To answer your question, yes, yes I did," he said and abruptly hung up.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**


	6. New York

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 6 – New York**

The Arthur Loring Gallery wanted Justin to start right away, so that the person he was replacing could train him before leaving. They gave him a few days to get settled and expected him to start work on Wednesday morning. Justin quickly realized that art studios were atrociously expensive to rent and that he'll have to make do with painting at the apartment until he saved enough money. The answer to that dilemma was obviously a second job. He was ecstatic to find part time work at an art supply store two blocks from the apartment not only for the extra money it provided, but also for the very generous 50% employee discount on all the art supplies he would ever need. At the end of his first week in New York his meager belongings and his artwork arrived from Pittsburgh and a week later September's roommate moved out, and Justin had officially moved in.

As busy and exciting as Justin's first week in New York has been, the bombing at Babylon, Michaels' injury and Brian weren't far from his mind. He talked to someone from Pittsburgh on a daily basis, Brian being the only exception – he just didn't quite know what to say. Finally, on Friday a week after the bombing, he called him:

"Hey Brian, it's me."

"Sunshine…How are you?"

"Good, good….I wanted to say I'm sorry about Babylon. I'm sure you'll rebuild it and make it even better than before."

"Yeah, sure." Brian replied without much enthusiasm.

"I don't know if you've heard, I moved to New York…" Justin told him about the job and the art showcase.

"I know, I've heard. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Brian. I wanted to come back to see everyone, say a proper good bye, especially after the bombing and what happened to Michael, but my mother and pretty much everyone told me to just stay here, start the job, get my life in order, so on and so forth. I think they are still pretty much freaked out by what happened and think that staying away from Pittsburgh will keep me safe. It's silly, if you ask me, crazy people who do fucked up things are pretty much everywhere and I am no safer in New York, but…"

"They were right to convince you to stay in New York." Brian interrupted.

"What?"

"You have an opportunity of a lifetime staring you in the face and nothing should distract you from it. Even though everyone is physically fine here, even Michael – he's already been released from the hospital and is doing better every day – there's too much confusion here, too much emotion, too much fear."

"I am not a robot, Brian!" Justin exclaimed. "This is my family, my friends, you we are talking about. I love you! All of you and…"

"I know. All I am saying is that your being away is actually a good thing – one less person for everyone to worry about. Like it or not, whether it's rational or not, but everyone is happy thinking that you are away from all this mess, pursuing your dream. That's the way it should be, Justin."

"I wish I could be there for everyone. I'm sorry we…"

"Don't, Justin. No apologies, no regrets, remember? This is your big chance, don't blow it and don't look back."

"Fine, I won't. Anyway, the reason I called was to invite you to the show. This is my very first show in New York and I'm inviting everyone to come. It's important to me, very important that you are there too. Will you be there?"

"Of course, Sunshine. I wouldn't miss it for the world, I promise."

"Great! It's in three weeks. I'll send you the invite."

"OK. Listen, I've got to go, have a meeting. Later!"

"Later…"

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**


	7. Emerging Artists Showcase

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 7 – Emerging Artists Showcase**

The next three weeks flew by in a blur. Every minute that Justin wasn't working either at the gallery or at the art store, he was either at a museum, or just walking around the streets of New York, drinking it all in and sketching, always sketching. Michael and Justin also decided to continue working on Rage via email, scanner and the occasional FedEx, especially since the storyline was inspired by what happened at the club.

The day of the Emerging Artists Showcase at the Dozier Gallery came with unexpected speed. Justin got two days off from both the gallery and the art store. Lindsay and Mel couldn't make it, since they've just moved to Toronto and had neither the time nor the means to get away. However, Jennifer along with Daphne, Emmett and Ted flew in that morning. Debbie, Ben, Michael and Hunter drove in, since Michael wasn't yet well enough to fly. One notable absence was Brian.

Justin was excited the whole day; nothing seemed to calm him down. When he walked into the Dozier Gallery, he was actually nervous. He walked around, seeming perfectly all right on the outside, meeting other artists, talking to the gallery employees, his family and various guests, but none of it seemed to register deep down. Then something happened that finally snapped him out of his weird mood - one of his canvases, the biggest one, was marked sold and was the first piece to be sold that night. Justin walked up to the curator who put together the show and asked who purchased the painting. He very much wanted to meet and thank the buyer. Justin was told that the piece was purchased via the telephone on behalf of a company. Apparently, some bigwig saw his painting in the galleries' online catalog for the show, but since no one from the company was able to attend in person, they got a representative to call in the purchase. Suspicious, Justin asked if the buyer is by chance a Brian Kinney or anyone connected to Kinnetik Corp out of Pittsburgh. He was told no – it was an outfit by the name of Britin Inc, which Justin has never heard of.

Throughout the show, Justin was looking for Brian, hoping that he'll make a fashionably late entrance, as usual. But he never showed up. An hour into the evening, his phone rang when Justin was outside smoking – it was Brian:

"Justin, it's me. Sorry I couldn't be there, but there was a problem with the Brown Athletics account and Leo demanded that I be in Chicago ASAP. Couldn't be helped."

"I understand." Justin replied in a dull voice.

"How is the show going?"

"Good. One of my paintings already sold, there seems to be some interest in the others…We'll see…"

"Well, you are well on your way then. Justin, listen, are you listening? I wish you to have everything you've ever wanted. I mean that!"

"That's a pipe dream, Brian, we both know that!" He said in a fit of anger. Justin was hurting so much he could hardy stand it. Suddenly, he couldn't bear the sound of Brian's voice. "Anyway, I should go…Later?"

Brian was silent for close to a minute, and then said quietly:

"Good bye, Sunshine" and hung up.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**


	8. Shockwave

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 8 – Shockwave**

Justin stared at the phone in shock. Daphne who came outside looking for him was instantly worried:

"Are you OK, Justin? What's wrong?"

"Brian isn't coming, he's in Chicago. He said good bye, Daph, he said good bye and hung up on me…not "later", but good bye…we always say "later", that's our thing! When we broke up, every time we broke up, even the last time, he said "later"!"

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that we are over, really over, for good this time. I kept hoping, kept thinking…After five years of this shit, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking!" Justin started pacing back and forth angrily. "God, I know Brian, I know him well, way too well. He will never change! He might have feelings for me, but he doesn't love me. And whatever he does feel for me he will never admit it, never declare it and he will never alter his plans or his life for me. I realized that a long time ago, it's time I finally believed it."

"I'm sorry, Jus." Daphne said, trying to reach out to him, but Justin ignored her hands and kept pacing.

"Yeah, so am I." He stopped abruptly and looking directly at her said "Well, he did do one new thing this time…"

"What was it?" Daphne asked, a little afraid of the answer.

"He broke a promise to me. God, I've got to get out of here!"

"Justin, you can't! I'm sorry about you and Brian, truly I am, but this is your moment. This show is important to your future! I know you are hurting, but you need to put this away for now. Suck it up, smile and charm the pants and wallets off of all those people. Make them buy your art, make them remember your name, make them remember you and show Brian what a fool he is for letting you go! Besides, almost your entire Pittsburgh family is here, you can't disappoint them by leaving now and you can't show them that you are upset."

"Like they won't know it or see it on my face!"

"Then fake it! I know it's hard, but they need to believe that you are happy, that you are doing well and that you are on your way to success. In the wake of the bombing, they need to believe it more than you know. If not for yourself, do it for them. I'll help you, I'll be right here beside you the whole time. OK?" she pleaded.

"OK. But I need to calm down. Go inside, Daph. I'll stay here, have another cigarette and I'll be right back. I need to be alone for just five minutes… I'll be back inside soon, I promise."

Justin leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, smoked another cigarette and then went back inside the gallery, never realizing that Brian watched the entire exchange from a darkened corner of a café across the street.

At the end of the evening the family wanted to go out and celebrate, but Justin begged off, saying that the stress has been a bit too much and he was exhausted. He arranged to meet everyone the next morning and promised to celebrate with them all day and show them New York. However, after everyone was gone, he didn't go home. He ended up leaving with a waiter from the gallery that's been discreetly cruising him all night and going to his place. After it was over, Justin started to get dressed in a hurry:

"Leaving already?" asked the waiter, Justin couldn't quite remember his name.

"Yeah, I've got work early tomorrow." Justin lied.

"I thought you were an artist?"

"I am, but thanks to a regular paycheck I am not a starving one."

"I guess we won't be exchanging numbers or seeing each other again, right?"

"Sorry, I am not looking for anything…serious…or at all." Justin replied, looking anywhere but at the bed.

"Yeah, I figured…"

Justin hesitated at the door, desperately trying to avoid looking at the trick.

"Mind if I ask how?"

"My name isn't Brian, its Adam…."

"Fuck! Sorry." Justin sighed, tightly shutting his eyes.

"Don't sweat it, happens to the best of us. By the way, who is Brian?"

Justin said: "No one" and walked out without looking back.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip. **

**A/N: It's dialogue heavy and a bit angsty, I know. Please read and review!**


	9. Changes

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 9 - Changes**

Professionally, things couldn't have been going better for Justin. The show was a big success – his other four pieces sold that night and in the coming days he received great reviews from the art critics from the New York Times, the New Yorker and, again, Art Forum magazine. The Dozier gallery offered him a contract, which he signed, to display two of his paintings per month for the next six months with a possibility of showing more in the future. Two other galleries were interested in showing some of his works at upcoming shows in June – only two pieces each, but it was something.

It surprised him how much he loved his job at the Arthur Loring Gallery. He was surrounded by art and by people who loved it. He was hired as an assistant, a general "dogsbody" of sorts. However, everyone realized pretty quickly that Justin was being wasted on the telephone, copier and coffeemaker – he was much better used in direct customer service. His co-workers saw that his sunny smile, though it rarely reached his eyes, could charm most difficult of customers and that his knowledge of art was surprisingly deep. Therefore, within a few short weeks he "graduated" to being a sales assistant, but as time went on he was selling art on his own more and more. He discovered that he was rather good at his job, just because he genuinely liked talking to people and instinctively knew what would appeal to them. His part time gig at the art supply store was more on the mundane and boring side, but the extra paycheck and the discount on art supplies were worth the hours put in at the cash register.

A few weeks after the show, Justin entered two art competitions. One was a city-wide competition to paint a mural in the lobby of one of midtown's brand new skyscrapers; the winner would receive a $10,000 prize as well. For two weeks he spent every waking moment that he wasn't working on the mural proposal – creating multiple sketches, a small version of the mural on canvas and the essay which explained the piece and his inspiration for it. The other competition was a regional one, which did not require as much work or preparation on Justin's part – all they wanted was a projection slide of a painting that fit the theme, a high-res photograph and a brief description. The winner would get a $1000 prize, would advance to the national competition and the painting would be displayed for public view. Thankfully, he already had a completed piece; it was one that he painted back in Pittsburgh when he was still living with Brian.

Personally, however, it was a different story. His encounter with the waiter left Justin a bit disgusted with himself. Tricking every single night was never really his thing; in hindsight, the only reason he slept around as often as he did was to either somehow compete with Brian or reach some sort of equal ground with him. He recognized now that neither was ever really possible. He realized that he still wanted those things that made him leave Brian the last time – a real monogamous relationship, love and, someday, a family. The problem was that he wanted those things with Brian and at this point he couldn't see how he would want them with anyone else. He decided to give himself time – time to get over Brian, time to be single, time to grow up, time to focus on his art and time to meet and get to know someone who wanted exactly the same things in a relationship.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Justin thought of Brian every day and the bits and pieces of the tumultuous five years that they spent together and apart, kept popping into his head at odd and sometimes inopportune moments. At first, he asked about Brian anytime he spoke to his family or friends on the phone. But as the days and weeks went by, it was getting harder and harder to listen to the news, so he stopped asking. At first they all volunteered information when he hasn't asked and eventually Justin had no choice but to ask them to stop mentioning Brian, Kinnetik, Babylon or anything relating to his former lover.

He found that the only way to escape Brian's ever-present ghost was through art work. The three months after the showcase at the Dozier Gallery were the most creative of his life. In addition to the mural project and Rage, he painted, sketched and drew every free moment he had, working late into and sometime through the night.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**

**A/N: I have no idea how things really work in the art world, as far as gallery contracts, art competitions and the like. This is all my imagination or my vision for what I would have liked to have happened to Justin. Any inaccuracies or deviations from reality are my own. Applies to the rest of the story, not just this chapter.**


	10. Pittsburgh

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 10 – Pittsburgh**

No one knew that Brian went to New York for Justin's first show. He just had to support Justin, even if only from afar. The phone call was the hardest thing he had to do in years. He thought that a quick, clean, painless break was what both Justin and he needed. It turned out to be anything but painless and he thought of nothing else for days. As far as anyone knew, he was in Chicago soothing a client and when anyone in the office, namely Ted or Cynthia, tried to ask him about that trip, they got their head bitten off and were told to mind their own fucking business.

Personally, Brian wasn't doing so well either. He seemed OK the first few days after he found out that Justin moved to New York. But the night after he supervised the packing and shipping of Justin's things, he got blindingly drunk at Woody's and had to be practically carried home. After that he resorted to his usual method of pain management – fucking anything that moved. One evening, Brian brought a trick back to the loft, but he couldn't get the images of him and Justin together in every corner of the place playing in mocking kaleidoscope in his brain. He ended up screwing the trick against the front door and throwing him out. After that, he didn't bring anyone back to the loft for quite some time. Not long after that disastrous encounter, he realized that neither the booze, nor the sex, nor the drugs were helping him in the slightest, but sheer exhaustion somewhat did. So he sobered up and threw himself into work instead.

At first, Brian planned to sell the charred shell that was Babylon to developers, but Michael intervened and convinced him to repair and reopen the club as a giant symbolic "Fuck you!" to anyone who wanted to do Liberty Avenue harm. So for the next two months, Brian immersed himself in work both at Kinnetik and at the reconstruction of the nightclub. The original club manager that Brian hired when he first acquired Babylon got slightly injured in the bombing and decided to seek employment elsewhere after he recovered. Ted wanted to hire someone new, but Brian refused and decided to manage both the club and Kinnetik himself at least for the time being. He worked non-stop, taking every phone call, every meeting and every business trip he could, driving himself and his team into the ground. The only downtime he took was a few hours of sleep and the 30 minutes he spent with Gus every day until Mel and Lindsey moved to Toronto. After that, he called Gus on a daily basis and spent a few minutes talking to him, afraid that Gus would forget him otherwise.

The result of this frenetic work pace was that Babylon was ready to be reopened in 10 short weeks. As for Kinnetik, the company landed three major new accounts in March alone and "stole" two important clients from the now decimated Vangard in April. It was shaping up to be a banner year for Brian's firm – the team just about reached the point of having more work than they could handle, yet Brian seemed to be on a never-ending quest for more.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**

**A/N: If Brian seems a bit OOC, its my vision as to what the bombing and losing the love of your life would do to a person. My thought is that Brian is starting to change. **


	11. Babylon

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 11 - Babylon**

Ten weeks after the bombing, the resurrected Babylon opened its doors to an enormous crowd and tight security. Brian decided to use the reopening as a fund-raising opportunity benefiting the Vic Grassi House and other LGBT charities, so everyone was invited and it seemed that most of Pittsburgh was there, both gay and straight. The entire family was in attendance, including Jennifer with a rather overdressed Tucker, and Daphne. Even Mel and Lindsay came, their trip paid for by an insistent Brian.

"Where's Sunshine?" Debbie asked Jennifer.

"He wanted to come, but there's a big event happening at the gallery and a couple of people got sick, so Mr. Loring asked Justin to stay." She reluctantly replied.

"An event, huh? Are you sure that's why he isn't here?"

"Truth be told, I think he was looking for an excuse not to come. As great as things have been with his work and his art, personally, he's a bit of a mess and is still getting over a certain someone. Speaking of...oh, hi Brian!"

"Jennifer," Brian leaned down and kissed her cheek "I'm glad you came."

Brian looked at everyone one by one, his eyes searching. Debbie hugged him and then caressing his cheek with the palm of her hand whispered:

"He isn't here, honey. Something came up at the gallery and he couldn't make it."

"Whom are you talking about, Deb? Everyone who's supposed to be here is here, just the way it fucking should be. Now, " he said to everyone in the party "since you are for all intents and purposes my family, your drinks are on the house for tonight only! You all have my express permission to get completely fucking shitfaced and dance until you can no longer move. I'll show you how it's done!"

He got a snifter of Jim Beam, tossed it back, got onto a small round platform rising in the middle of the dance floor and as if in a trance began to dance, alone.

Ted looked at Brian dancing and said shaking his head: "Would you look at him? He works like a stevedore and yet, looks better than ever. How does he do it?"

Hunter said: "Sold his soul to the devil?"

"Hunter!" yelled Ben.

"What? All I know is the guy drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney, does every drug known to man, tricks every night and still looks better than any of us on a good day! Now, how is that possible without some sort of blood sacrifice and devil worship?"

Michael said "Actually, recently he's done nothing but work and sleep."

"I can certainly attest to that, well, the work part…" Ted agreed.

Michael nodded "Until tonight, I haven't seen him drink in weeks, or take so much as a bump of trail mix. I haven't even seen him smoke, though I doubt he has completely quit. He hardly seems to go out or trick anymore, it's so not like him it's disturbing!"

"It's like a whole new Brian Kinney!" came from a surprised Carl.

Michael said "Well, truthfully, I think what you are seeing right now is a Brian that has had some sleep. I think in the last 10 weeks he's had more actual, non-drug-induced, normal sleep than in the entire last decade. It doesn't hurt that he's lost some weight because he's been working so much and shaved off the perpetual five o'clock shadow he's been sporting last couple of years."

Ben laughed "So what you are saying is that Brian gets some shut-eye, quits partying for a couple of months, takes the time to shave and the result is that he looks thinner, healthier, more fit and five years younger?"

Ted intoned sagely "Some men are born lucky, some are born very lucky and then there's Brian Kinney…"

Emmett who was quiet until that moment, interrupted: "I wouldn't say he quit partying...cut way, way, way down maybe, but quit, definitely not! I've seen him at BoyToy a few times, picking up some young, blond, blue-eyed twink of medium height, if you know what I mean." Everyone stared at Emmett.

Lindsay: "You don't mean he's…."

"Oh, yeah!" Emmett nodded. "No doubt about it, they are all - and he never picks up the same one twice - Justin look-a-likes in some form or another. It's either the hair, the eyes, the height…"

"I wonder what he's going to do when he runs through all the blonds in Pittsburgh? Send for boy toy takeout?"

Michael and Ben screamed in unison: "Hunter!"

"All right, all right, sorry!" Hunter said, though he clearly was not at all apologetic. "But the guy needs to snap the hell out of it already!"

Melanie nodded "I agree. God, he looks…"

Ted "Younger?"

Carl "Rested?"

Michael "Hot?"

Ben "Healthy?"

Daphne "Gorgeous?"

Melanie slowly shook her head: "Actually, I was going to say…"

Lindsay looked at Mel and both said: "Lonely."

Jennifer sighed "And alone."

"Fucking heartbreaking!" Debbie sniffed.

Emmett looked at everyone with a raised eyebrow and said: "I hate to sound all cynical, but this is Brian we are talking about. He won't be lonely or alone for long, trust me… Oh, look! He's spotted his latest victim."

Sure enough, Brian jumped down from the platform and was whispering into the ear of a blond twenty-something and two minutes later they were weaving their way through the gyrating crowd.

"The back room, of course?" Ben inquired.

Ted said: "Oh, no. He's got a brand-new office upstairs, with an actual door and a lock, if you can believe it. He's never needed or wanted privacy before."

Twenty minutes later the "victim" walked up to the bar near where Daphne was standing and ordered a drink. A friend of his loudly asked "Who the fuck was that guy?"

The blond turned around and with a satisfied, if a bit awe-stuck smile said "I just saw the face of God and his name is Brian Kinney!"

Daphne choked on her beer at the familiar words and quickly walked away coughing. Brian was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the night.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip. **


	12. Summer

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 12 - Summer**

June was a big month for Justin's fledgling art career. Both gallery showings at Mercer Fine Art and the Newberg Gallery of Contemporary Art scheduled for June were successful and all four of Justin's paintings were sold either on the evening of the event or within days after. Since both shows were relatively small and close together, Justin didn't invite anyone from Pittsburgh to come, though he told everyone about both opportunities. Both galleries expressed interest in displaying Justin's work in the future, making similar arrangements to the one he had with the Dozier Gallery, except they would be displaying one painting a month each.

At the end of June Justin found out that he came in 2nd in the mural competition, winning $5000. His canvas of the miniature version of the mural and his preparatory sketches were put on display in the lobby of the new building among the works of the top five contestants. The competition was mentioned in all major art publications around New York, and the display was open to the public for the next two months, while the grand winner worked on the mural.

Justin's star was slowly, but definitely on the rise to the excitement of everyone back in Pittsburgh and Toronto. Justin was equally as happy, especially because the competition winnings meant that he could finally afford to rent studio space, which he desperately needed. He chose studio space that the Arthur Loring Gallery owned and rented out to artists, since it was extremely convenient for work and because he got a break in price due to his being an employee.

In July, Justin found out that he won the regional competition and his work advanced onto the national round, with the grand prize being $10,000 and another public display of the work. The winners would be announced on Labor Day.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip. **

**A/N: Once again, anything art world related (gallery showings, competitions and the like) is from my imagination, regardless of how it actually works in the real world. Please read and review!**


	13. The Arthur Loring Gallery

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 13 – The Arthur Loring Gallery**

The Arthur Loring Gallery where Justin worked was established back in the 1925 by the current owner's grandfather and namesake, and was an institution in the New York art world. It survived the Great Depression, World War II and weathered many an economic decline because its original owner and his descendants were shrewd businessmen as well as art lovers. During tough times, especially in the early days of the gallery, the Loring family sought out and displayed anything that was out of the ordinary, unique and exciting in the art scene in order to differentiate their business from the throng of other spaces. Arthur Loring's was among the first galleries in New York to display the works of Picasso, de Kooning and several notable others, thus establishing itself as a premier gallery of modern art. Over the decades, it sold many works by lesser known and a few unknown artists as well, launching several successful careers in the process. However, in the last fifteen years or so, the gallery worked exclusively with well established artists, displaying and selling museum quality works.

Justin was aware that he was extraordinarily lucky to have gotten a job, any job, in this place, especially without a college degree. He knew that if his career as an artist never went further than a couple of small shows and competitions, getting practical work experience at the Arthur Loring Gallery and a possible recommendation letter was worth more than his weight in gold as far as any art school in the country was concerned. His co-workers, as well as his boss knew of his artistic aspirations. He never hid it from them, but he never really discussed it either, thinking that at this point in his career the gallery was way out of his league. However, as his minor success continued to grow, his co-workers paid more and more attention to the young artist and encouraged him to persevere no matter what.

On the day that Arthur Loring himself asked to see him in the office to discuss his work, Justin assumed it was about his performance at the gallery and was afraid he was about to get fired. The conversation that followed floored him and was the last thing that Justin expected to have with the owner of the gallery.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, except for any original characters. **


	14. A Most Important Conversation

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 14 – A Most Important Conversation**

"Come in Mr. Taylor. Sit down." Arthur Loring said, inviting Justin into his office. "I took a big chance hiring someone without a degree or any experience. Even though you came highly recommended, it was a risk. However, this gallery wouldn't be where and what it is today, if my grandfather, my father and I didn't take the occasional risk. I saw something in you during the interview and I haven't regretted hiring you since. I've also been following your art with great interest. You show a lot of promise, judging by a few pieces that were reviewed in magazines and the display in midtown. Congratulations on getting 2nd place and on winning the regional competition, by the way."

"Thank you!" Justin replied in surprise.

"I know you've recently rented studio space from us, but my question is why haven't you approached me about your art work? You do work for a rather prestigious gallery, even if I do say so myself, and I am considered to be an expert in the field."

"I would never presume to take advantage like that, Mr. Loring. Besides, my work is nowhere near up to par and..."

Arthur chuckled "Artists are always their own worst critics, God love them! Let others judge whether your work is up to par or not, Mr. Taylor, that's why art critics and gallery owners exist. From what I've been reading from those said critics, your artwork is nothing to sneeze at. Unfortunately, all I've seen with my own two eyes is the midtown mural display and a couple of paintings at Mercer Fine Arts. I'd like to see more of your work - all of it, if possible. You are undoubtedly very talented, Mr. Taylor, and I'd like to help you make the most of that talent."

"I…Thank you, Mr. Loring, I'm…well, speechless. I'd love for you to take a look at my work. I have my portfolio with me, actually."

"Not the portfolio, I want to see the pieces themselves. Can you bring them in?"

"Um, I have about 35 completed canvases, a few others still in progress. I don't think I could bring them all in, sir."

"Good lord, Mr. Taylor, you have been busy!" Arthur exclaimed. "Where are you storing them?"

"They are all at my apartment, I'm afraid."

"How about I drop by tomorrow morning at eight and we'll take a look."

"Thank you, sir. That would be amazing!"

The next morning, Justin got up an hour and a half early to get ready for Mr. Loring's visit. He made sure again that the place was extra clean and spent an hour arranging his canvases for a better view. His roommate spent the night before with her boyfriend and he was relieved that he had the place to himself. He liked September, they got along great as roommates and he appreciated her letting him hang his art in their tiny living room. But regardless of how good a friend she's become, September wasn't Daphne or Brian, and in the minutes before Arthur Loring's visits Justin desperately wished for either his best friend or his former lover to help him deal with his nerves.

Arthur Loring arrived promptly at 8 am and declining a cup of coffee asked to see Justin's work.

"Well, some of it is hanging on the walls here in the living room; the rest is in the bedroom. I arranged it as best I could for you." Justin said. "As you can see, there's not a lot of space. Sorry."

Arthur Loring looked around and saw every inch of wall space covered with canvases of different sizes, he walked from one wall to the other intensely studying each of the paintings hanging in the living room. The bedroom seemed to be no bigger than a closet, the only furnishings being a folded futon bed, a small table in the corner that held a drawing computer and a stack of sketchpads, a large easel with an unfinished canvas standing by the window and art supplies that were ruthlessly organized on the windowsill. As in the living room, the walls were covered with Justins' art. There were also several canvases on the floor, propped up against the wall for better viewing. Arthur took his time looking at each canvas without comment. Then he went through several sketchpads that contained pencil, charcoal and ink drawings of New York City streets, Central Park, various bridges and dozens of portraits of people.

"These are very good" was his first remark.

Justin let out a breath he didn't know he held. Thank God he likes at least something, he thought. He looked through a folder containing the prints Justin made using the drawing computer and asked a number of questions regarding digital manipulation of images. Justin explained about the difficulties with his hand and that for a while he was very interested in digital art while in college, but he still preferred to draw and paint by hand. Opening another folder, Arthur saw several sketches and mock-ups of the next issue of Rage that Justin and Michael just started working on.

"You are the same Justin Taylor who illustrates Rage?" he asked surprised.

"Yes" Justin replied in shock "I didn't know you were familiar with it."

"My nephew, Jacob, is a big fan. He'll be thrilled to know you work for the gallery. I'm sure he'd like to meet you, if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure, anytime. I love kids, even teenagers." At that comment Arthur laughed.

"You misunderstand me, Mr. Taylor. Jacob is 26 and is a doctoral student at NYU. Studying physics, of all things. He is an odd one out, our Jacob."

"Why? Is it because you think he might be gay?"

"Oh, I know he's gay, he came out years ago. But that's not what I meant. Growing up in our family most of whom are artists, art historians, photographers, art gallery owners, etcetera, he had no choice but to learn to love and appreciate art. Unfortunately, he himself has no artistic bone in his body, the poor boy. Ask him to draw a stick figure and he'll produce an unrecognizable mess. He's the only one in our entire extended family with a scientific bent. He's fond of comic books, however, so I know he'd like to talk to you about Rage."

"Sure, Mr. Loring" Justin said with a shrug "I'll talk to him whenever." Arthur Loring was looking at this work and seemed to like some of it, for that alone Justin was willing to spend an hour or two talking to a science nerd.

"It'll be a while. He's in Switzerland at the moment. Won himself a graduate fellowship at CERN! Made the family proud and baffled, in equal measure. He'll be back around New Years. I'll introduce you."

He closed the Rage folder and before Justin was able to stop him, he picked up a sketchpad that was lying on the folded futon and started to look through it. Its pages were filled with dozens of studies of Brian – his face, eyes, hands, legs, feet, entire body both clothed and nude. He was portrayed in pencil, charcoal and ink from every angle and perspective; a single image sometimes dominated the page, while others were crowded with a collage of miniature studies of the same person.

"Who is he?" Arthur asked.

"No one, really." Justin replied quietly.

Loring carried the sketchpad with him to the living room and started to study the canvases again, periodically looking through the sketchpad. He did the same thing again in the bedroom.

"He is definitely not no one, Mr. Taylor."

"Why do you say that?" Justin frowned.

"His image permeates your artwork, regardless of whether a painting is representational or abstract. Either his image, or features, or profile, or posture, or silhouette – even in its smallest measurement, but something from this sketchbook is a part of every composition. Granted, it is only apparent if one is looking at all your works together and has these sketches as a guide. It's subtle, but definitely there."

"I didn't realize…He was my boyfriend. Actually, that's not exactly accurate. It's complicated… In short, he is an ex."

"I thought he might be someone like that. In any case, the overall impact is startlingly powerful, intense and very emotional. Now that I've seen your work up close, I am not at all surprised that your pieces are doing well in galleries, Mr. Taylor. How long did it take you to complete all these?" He asked gesturing at the canvases.

"About four months, more or less."

"All this? Including the mural project, the sketches and Rage?"

"Yes, why?"

"Plus, you have a second job from what I hear. When exactly do you sleep, Mr. Taylor?"

"Sometimes I don't, Mr. Loring" Justin laughed "There are times I can't sleep unless I paint or draw something, anything. It's like something inside me is trying to get out and the only way to release it is through my hands. It's always been like that, but much more intense recently, since Brian and I…well, since I moved to New York."

"I see. Did you do all the work here?"

"Yes, some of the drawings were done outside, but I mostly paint here. I know, the light is abysmal and there's no space, but I do what I can. It'll be better now that I have access to a studio."

"Are these drawings part of your portfolio? Have you shown them to anyone?"

"Those are off limits! They are private." Justin said about the sketches of Brian.

"I was talking about your drawings of the city and other portraits, Mr. Taylor. A colleague of mine, Mary Ellen Watson, owns a small gallery on the Upper West Side that specializes in this kind of art. I think she'll be very interested in your drawings, especially those done in charcoal. I think I'll give her a call and tempt her to come down here to meet you."

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Loring, other than thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet, Mr. Taylor. She's a tough old bird, Mary Ellen, very hard to please. Regarding your painting…Bottom line, I am very impressed and I'd like to make you a deal."

"But you don't work with unknown artists…"

"I wouldn't call you an unknown anymore Mr. Taylor, you are quietly making a name for yourself. And even though my gallery hasn't worked with un-established up-and-comers in quite a few years, it doesn't mean we haven't done so in the past or don't know how to do it again. Tradition and doing what works is one thing, but stagnation is the kiss of death in this business. We have been doing things the same way at the gallery for far too long, in my opinion. It is high time we shook things up again. So here's my deal. We'll wait until after the national competition results are announced in September – no reason not to use the free publicity if you win, or place – and I'll give you a show at the end of September, say 20-25 canvases, displayed for a month. Depending on how the show does, we'll then decide whether Arthur Loring Gallery will represent you more formally. Interested?" Justin couldn't speak for what seemed like an eternity.

"Interested? How could I not be! Mr. Loring you are offering me an opportunity of a lifetime, I don't know how to thank you!"

"You are welcome, but let's just wait and see. If your show is a success, I might have to thank you."

"Mr. Loring, what if I don't win or don't place in the competition?"

"You'll still have a show, just without the extra boost of free publicity. In the meantime, I'll get you a standard contract. I strongly suggest you get and agent or have a lawyer look over the paperwork to make sure you understand and agree with all the particulars."

"I'll do that. Thank you."

"OK, Mr. Taylor, we better get a move-on or we both will be late for work."

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced. **

**A/N: I know it's a long chapter, but that's the way it came out. Please read and review!**


	15. Euphoria

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 15 – Euphoria**

Justin tried to keep it cool, calm and as professional as possible at work that day, but he was so happy, genuinely happy for the first time in months that he couldn't help but smile constantly. At lunch, he finally couldn't stand it anymore and decided to call everyone. The first number he dialed was Brian's, but he hung up after the first ring and called his mother instead. She was ecstatic about the news and said that she will not miss Justin's biggest break for the world. Next he called Lindsay in Toronto, thinking that this kind of news was worth the international calling charge.

"Lindsay, you wouldn't believe it, I am going to have a show at the gallery! Mr. Loring took a look at my work this morning and liked it enough to give me a solo show in September. He wants 20 canvases, maybe more! I owe it all to you, Lindsay, so you have to be here for the opening. You cannot miss it!"

"Justin, that's incredible! And you don't owe me anything, all I did was put in a good word for you that got you an interview – you did the rest yourself. I am so happy for you, Mel will be too! We will do our best to be there. Wait, did you say 20 canvases? That sounds like a lot. Do you have enough time to prepare? What about other galleries? Do you need me to…"

"Lindsay, I have 35 paintings already completed and have five others that aren't finished yet. I'll be fine, trust me."

"Wow! It seems like you are doing nothing but working and painting. I sincerely hope you are taking some time for yourself too, Justin. You are still so young and you live in one of the most exciting cities in the world. I hope you are having some fun, going out, meeting people."

"Linds, don't worry about me. Right now this feels right, it feels good. There's so much in my head that I can't help but need to get it all out of my system. One of these days I'll slow down a bit and then I'll go out and paint the town red, no pun intended! But not until after the show, nothing else exists until then."

"Justin, have you told Brian?"

"No and I am not going to. I'll make sure an invite is sent out to the loft, but we both know that he probably won't come. Truth be told, a small part of me actually hopes that he doesn't. Moving to New York and getting some distance has been a really good thing for me, I think. I think that I am finally, finally starting to let him go. Anyway, there's another reason I called, do you think Mel will be willing to take a look at the contract?"

The rest of the conversation went rather quickly, with promises of seeing each other again in September. After work, Justin called everyone else – Daphne, Debbie, Michael and Emmett. They were all thrilled with the news and all of them said they'll do their best to be there.

Justin wasn't due at the art store that evening. It was Friday night, so he decided to take Lindsay's advice and to do something fun for a change. He wanted to go to a party, or a pub, or a club and loose himself in booze, music and a willing body and to celebrate properly. But since it was still fairly early, he ended up at the Met wondering the halls filled with the art of masters in a sort of euphoric stupor until the museum closed at 9:30. Deciding that he deserved to splurge this one time, he jumped into a cab.

"Where to?" asked the cabbie. Justin thought for a moment…

"Fuck the club! I'm going home to paint." And gave him the address.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced. **


	16. Nathan Turner

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 16 – Nathan Turner**

Brian planned to spend Independence Day at Babylon, partying the night away. But as several things unexpectedly came up he ended up spending most of the party shut in the upstairs office on the phone or on the computer, working. Since this type of thing has been happening with an almost daily regularity, Ted, Emmett, Michael and Ben decided that something had to be done. They barged into the office and staged an "intervention", saying that he cannot run both Kinnetik and Babylon by himself and that he works way too much. Brian insisted that he's fine, but Ted said that he'd like a personal life as well as a professional one and needed more help in the accounting department. They all reminded him that the Brian Kinney of old would never shut himself in an office to work during a major holiday party at Babylon, but he had so much to do he had no time to relax. They all ganged up on him and insisted that he hire a general manager for the club. Brian finally agreed to do so, but put Ted that Cynthia in charge of conducting all the preliminary interviews and insisted on having final say as to who gets hired to manage the club.

Instead of spending weeks on looking for someone, Ted lured one of his former co-workers from Wertshafter's for the accounting department. Ted and Cynthia spend two weeks interviewing about a dozen candidates, settling on the top two that they wanted Brian to meet. One of them was an older man who, at least to Brian, seemed to be even more excruciatingly boring then Ted and while capable and experienced, didn't seem the right type to manage a nightclub. The other candidate was Nathan Turner whose previous job was managing a popular gay nightclub in New York, Red Square. After the standard introduction and handshake, the first words out of Brian's mouth were:

"You managed Red Square in New York, what the hell are you doing here in Pittsburgh?"

"My father had a heart attack a couple of weeks ago and had triple bypass surgery. He's doing well, but my mother completely fell apart. They need help and they need me here, so here I will be."

"Where are you from originally, because you sure as hell not from the Pitts?"

"Connecticut. My parents moved here about fifteen years ago; it was supposed to be just for a couple of years, but they liked it and never left."

"Well, welcome to Kinnetik Corp Nathan Turner! I'm sure I'll be glad to have you on board. You can start Monday." Brian said, reaching for a handshake. Nathan hesitated:

"I have to make something clear, I don't sleep with my employers. If that's in any way expected, then I'll have to say thanks, but no thanks."

"Ah, I see my reputation precedes me," Brian said "but not to worry, your virtue is safe with me. I am not fool enough to risk a sexual harassment lawsuit." Not again, Brian thought to himself. "All I want from you is your club management experience. Are you still on board, Mr. Turner?"

This time it was Nathan who extended his hand for a handshake "Nate, please call me Nate."

"In that case, make it Brian."

As Nate turned to leave, his gaze fell on a large canvas hanging on the wall above the conference table on the other side of the room. He stood looking at the painting for a few minutes until Brian finally asked:

"Is something wrong, Nate?"

"No, not at all. It's just that it's a small world." Nate smiled, shaking his head.

"How's that?" Brian asked curiously.

"I was at that art show. My date was trying to impress me by taking me to a gallery opening, emerging artists and all that. The problem was my date was dumb as a post, boring and had zero actual interest in art. The only thing that saved that evening was that I actually liked the art, especially Justin Taylor's works and I decided to buy this exact painting not two minutes before it was marked sold. I had no idea you are the one who bought it, hence - small world..."

"I couldn't make it to the show, I bought it by phone."

"Sight unseen?" Nate was incredulous.

"A very good friend of mine has contacts with the gallery, so you could say I had an inside track." Brian evaded "So no, not sight unseen. I wanted it, so I got it."

"Well, congratulations! Out of the five paintings he had showing there, this was my favorite. However, I liked the others enough to buy one anyway. He's one talented kid, Justin Taylor. When I met him at the gallery, I couldn't believe my eyes..."

"You've met him?" Brian suddenly interrupted.

"A couple of times actually. He came in to Red Square about a week before his show and we bumped into each other at the bar. I thought he was just some twink, beautiful but dumb as they usually are, looking for a fuck. But he wasn't interested in anyone that night it seemed. He danced for hours alone, drank alone and left alone, leaving a throng of devastated admirers behind." Nate chuckled, "When I saw him at the gallery and found out that he was the artist everyone was talking about I was stupefied. I had a chance to talk to him for a few minutes and let me tell you, this kid wasn't dumb by any means. He's one of those triple threats – beauty, brains and talent. Sadly, he had no interest in me personally whatsoever. He's too young for me anyway."

"Hmm..." Brian waited for Nate to continue. He hoped to hear something, anything new about Justin. Unfortunately, it seemed that this was the end of Nate's story. Nate looked at the painting again and asked:

"You wouldn't consider selling it to me, would you?"

"Not a chance." Brian replied.

"Damn! At least I'll get a chance to see it whenever I come in here, now that I am working for you. By the way, thanks for the opportunity. I guarantee I won't let you or Babylon down." At Brian's nod, Nate turned around and left.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	17. Big Break

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 16 – Big Break**

Things continued to go exceptionally well for Justin over the next month and a half. One of the companies that moved into the midtown high-rise with the mural, liked Justin's competition canvas and accompanying drawings, and bought the entire lot for their offices for $5000.

In mid-August, Justin met the infamous Mary Ellen Watson of the Watson Fine Prints and Drawings, who loved many of his sketches and bought ten charcoal city scenes outright. She said that she planned to have a show of ink portraits in October and would like to include some of his ink works for that show as well. By the end of August, both Mercer Fine Arts and the Newberg Gallery requested to display two paintings a month each starting in September. The Dozier Gallery also renewed his contract. Justin was cautiously optimistic about how well his art was being received. He fervently hoped that his success will continue to grow and that eventually he'll be able to support himself through his art alone. Until then, he ruthlessly banked every penny of what his artwork brought him, other than the money that he spent on renting a studio, and decided to keep both of his jobs as long as he possibly could.

When Labor Day weekend finally arrived, Justin found himself to be busier than usual. Two people at the gallery were out on sick leave, which left everyone else to pitch in and work overtime in preparation for a show that holiday weekend. The art supply store was having a huge annual sale, which required him to work extra hours also. So when most people had a three or four day weekend of leisure, Justin put in 40 hours of work since Friday alone between his two jobs. When the national art competition results were announced on Monday morning, Justin was dead asleep, enjoying his first full day off in over a week. He was awoken suddenly by the loud banging on his apartment door. Justin opened the door, wrapped in a sheet, bleary eyed, yawning and was surprised to see Arthur Loring on his doorstep.

"Mr. Loring, I thought I had a day off today."

"You do, Mr. Taylor. Don't you know what day it is?"

"Um, Monday? Holiday? Oh, Labor Day, right. Is there a problem at the gallery?"

"Mr. Taylor, Justin. I realize you must be exhausted after the week you've put in, but I can't believe you have forgotten about the competition, which you've won by the way, first place. Congratulations!"

Justin was speechless for a moment, then forgetting that he was naked under the sheet, he let out a loud "Whoop! I won! First place!" and jumped into the air. Mr. Loring laughed and said:

"You better get dressed, Mr. Taylor, we need to talk about your show. I'm thinking, Saturday, September 30th. This gives us a month to prepare. Your first place win in this competition will definitely help get the word out in advance. Whenever you are interviewed, and you will be, believe me, make sure you mention your upcoming show and the gallery. Now, let's look through your work and choose the pieces."

Since his initial conversation with Arthur Loring back in July, Justin has finished the five canvases he had in progress, completed a couple of others and was working on one more. Having access to a professional art studio for the first time in his life, outside of a college classroom, got his creative juices flowing like never before, to the point where he forgot about food, sleep and time when he painted there. Even though he had six pieces promised to the three galleries where his work was displayed, he still had plenty of paintings to choose from. Arthur earmarked 20 pieces to start and said that they'll start hammering out all the details later in the week. Before he left, Arthur had one more suggestion.

"I've been thinking about adding a section of your drawings to the show as well, portraits, specifically. It would show your range as an artist. I think you should strongly consider adding a few studies from your "off limits" sketchbook. They will be a dramatic addition to the show. Don't say no just yet, think about it, Mr. Taylor."

Justin did think about it and at first, he decided against the idea. But a few days later when they were planning the layout of the artwork in the gallery, thinking of the theme and planning advertizing, he finally realized that Arthur was right. The next morning, he knocked on his boss's door carrying the "Brian" sketchpad with him.

"You were right, Mr. Loring, I should have listened to you. Which ones would you like to include?" Justin said, extending the sketchpad to him.

In the end, the show included 25 of Justin's canvases, ten of which were representational and the rest abstract, and 20 portraits in charcoal and pencil, five of which were of Brian.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	18. Toronto

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 18 – Toronto**

To say that the Babylon disaster had an affect on Brian, would be to minimize its true impact. It affected him in more ways than one without him realizing it and not just in relation to his feelings for Justin. One of the biggest changes was his attitude towards Gus. Suddenly, he could no longer dismiss the fact that he was a father, as easily as he used to in the past. When Lindsay and Mel decided to move to Toronto, he panicked at first, demanding that they leave Gus behind. But he realized that he would not be able to be a full-time, single dad, so he gave Mel and Lindsay his blessing. But the closer the move to Toronto came, the more afraid he became that Gus would forget him and for some reason, that disturbed Brian to the core. He started coming over to Mel and Lindsays on a daily basis under the guise of various excuses, like bringing extra shipping boxes, or packing material, or to help them pack, but in reality he was there to spend time with Gus. He never stayed longer than an hour, usually leaving after about 30 minutes, but taken cumulatively it was the most time he spent with this son since his birth.

After Lindsay and Mel moved to Toronto, Brian continued to keep in touch through daily phone calls, which usually lasted just a few minutes – there wasn't a lot you could talk about with a five-year-old. As the days went on Brian began to look forward to those conversations, because for some reason they relaxed him and brought him an inexplicable measure of peace in his super busy life.

A couple of weeks after the reopening of Babylon Michael was pronounced 100% recovered from his injuries and the first thing he wanted to do was to visit JR and started to plan the trip immediately. Michael talked of nothing else for days, so one day Brian surprised him with a plane ticket to Toronto. Michael thought that Brian would be going with him, but he used the "I have too much work to do" excuse. At the last minute, however, Brian decided to go to Toronto just for the weekend, while Michael was planning to spend a week.

Mel and Lindsay found a cozy three bedroom town house to rent in a nice neighborhood. Even though the house wasn't very big, it could easily accommodate a couple of extra visitors. Regardless, Brian insisted on staying at a nearby hotel, while Michael took the guest room.

When Gus saw Brian he ran up to him with a ear-splitting "Daddy!" and hugged his legs. When Brian picked him up, Gus began a non-stop conversation about his new school and his new friends that he met at the park. Gus then insisted on showing Brian his new bedroom. Brian was a little taken aback by Gus's enthusiasm, but he went along with him. Brian realized that he has never been in Gus's original bedroom back in Pittsburgh and for the first time he found that to be rather strange. When he came to visit back in Pittsburgh, they either stayed in the living room, kitchen or went to the park.

Brian looked curiously around Gus's room – it had everything a little boy would ever want, from books to toys. It seemed that Gus was into cars and trains because he made sure to show Brian every single toy car and train that he had in his possession and described in detail where and how he got each one. Brian was surprised to find out that several of them were gifts from Justin. However, what surprised Brian the most were the pictures that were hanging on the walls of Gus's room. The majority were of Gus with his two moms and various other members of their circle of friends and family. There were only three pictures of Gus and Brian together – one was of Brian holding a newborn Gus at the hospital, another one was taken at Gus's first birthday party and the last was of Brian holding Gus right before they moved to Toronto. However, there were many more of Gus and Justin together taken throughout the last five years. As casually as possible he asked Gus about the photos. Gus replied:

"Justin's my friend. I miss him a lot. He moved away to New York to be a famous artist and I don't see him anymore. But he sends me cards and pictures every week."

Then he showed Brian an album where Lindsay and Mel helped Gus store Justin's postcards, photos and small hand-drawn drawings, some of which were of New York streets, but many more of which featured various New York City vehicles like taxis, garbage trucks, ambulances, buses and subway trains.

"I wish he could come visit, but moms said he can't yet. Mommy promised that we would go visit him in September in New York. I can't wait, I'll get to see Justin and I'll get to see all these cars and trains."

When Brian asked Lindsay about all the photos practically papering the walls of Gus's room, Lindsay told him that they tried to make the move to Toronto as painlessly as possible for the kids. JR was too young to know any better, but Gus has already been through so much, especially when Mel and Lindsay broke up, so they thought that having everyone that Gus knew and loved surrounding him at least through pictures might help a little. When Brian asked her about a dozen or so photos of Justin, Lindsay told him that they were very close, since Justin visited Gus at least once a week for the past four years until his move to New York and their own departure for Toronto. Brian was astonished. He knew that Justin occasionally babysat for Mel and Lindsay when needed, but he apparently didn't pay enough attention at the time to know that Justin was such a big part of Gus's life and a better father-figure to Gus than he ever was.

For Brian the short trip to Toronto was good, but somewhat bitter-sweet. Spending an entire uninterrupted weekend with Gus was fun, tiring and filled with many firsts that Brian never imagined doing, much less enjoying – such as giving Gus a bath and reading him a bed-time story. All of it seemed alien to Brian, the whole scene was way too domestic, but for the first time in his life he had no desire to renounce it, or make fun of it or rebel against it. Brian knew deep down that he wasn't built to do this everyday, but he realized that he actually looked forward to the next weekend with his son in Toronto.

The end result of this trip was that Brian made the decision to be as much in Gus's life as possible and actually promised Gus, Mel and Lindsay that he'll visit Toronto as often as he could. Even though a lot of things were gradually changing in Brian's life and within Brian himself, one thing remained same as always – he almost never made promises, but those that he did make, with one notable exception, he kept. As busy as Brian was over the next year, he made a point to go to Toronto once a month, if only overnight.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	19. Surprise

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 19 – Surprise**

Early Friday evening before his solo show the next day, Justin was working at the gallery, helping set things up, when his mother, Daphne and an excited Molly walked in the door. The three of them practically fell on him with hugs, kisses and delighted squeals, to the amusement of everyone present. They went outside to talk.

"Honey, it's so good to see you! I am so excited and so very proud of you. I can't wait for tomorrow." Jennifer said.

"Neither can I," Daphne and Molly screamed in unison "I told everyone at school that my brother is a famous artist and that I am going to his show in New York!" Molly continued as Justin laughed.

"Thanks, Mollusk, though it's a bit premature calling me famous. When did you arrive?"

"About two hours ago. I left Tucker at the hotel to unwind. Anyway," Jennifer said "we just came by to say hi and find out when you'll be free. We want to take you to dinner tonight for a pre-opening celebration."

"It's going to be a few hours, we barely begun to set up."

At that point, Arthur Loring, who was apparently alerted to the reunion, came outside and Justin introduced his boss to the others. Mr. Loring was willing to let Justin leave early in order to be with his family, but Justin insisted on staying at least until he saw his paintings go up on the gallery walls. He gave Daphne his key, since she was staying at his apartment and arranged to meet everyone at 9 pm at a little Italian restaurant a couple of blocks from his place. When he asked if anyone else was coming to the opening, Jennifer said the only ones she was sure of were Debbie and Carl who were driving up the next day. Justin was just glad that at least someone from Pittsburgh was going to be there for what he considered to be a turning point in his career.

When he walked into the restaurant that evening, the hostess led him to a large table in the back and he was greeted by a roar of "Congratulations, Sunshine!" from about twenty people. It was the best surprise and the best gift he could have ever received. It seemed that the slice of Liberty Avenue that he so loved and missed just transported itself to Manhattan just for him, for everyone from Debbie and Carl, Michael, Ben and Hunter, Emmett and Ted were there around the table, together with his mother, Tucker, Molly and Daphne. There was a new face belonging to Emmett's new boyfriend, whose name Justin never did hear in all the happy chaos, and an old one that belonged to Blake, who reunited with Ted a few months prior. His roommate September and her boyfriend John were there as well, smiling widely. However, the biggest surprise of all was seeing Lindsay and Mel, along with Gus and JR.

Gus ran up to him, launched himself into his arms and said "I miss you, Justin", hugging his neck so tightly, Justin thought he might suffocate. He was hugged and kissed by everyone, and all the stress about tomorrow's show that's been building in Justin all day, just fell away and dissipated into nothing. He realized that regardless of whether he succeeded or bombed, these people would be there by his side and would love him no matter what. All throughout dinner Justin's hand itched for his sketchpad and a pencil – there were so many moments that he wanted to capture on paper. Alas, he made do with a camera that someone produced and took dozens of pictures of his family and friends around him. The evening, one of the best since Justin moved to New York, flew by quickly amid plates of pasta, what seemed like a river of wine, non-stop conversation and constant laughter.

When Justin along with Daphne got home, September choosing to spend the night with John, he was quiet.

"Are you OK?" Daphne asked.

"I am happy."

"Then why do you look so damn sad?"

"He isn't coming, is he?" Justin asked dejectedly.

"No. Ted said that he's in Los Angeles, trying to woo some new client for Kinnetik. Though, personally I think it's just a bullshit excuse."

"That's probably exactly where he is and is exactly what he is doing, unless he's at some club fucking somebody. It's better this way. Anyway, I am just so glad everyone came. No matter how the show turns out tomorrow, I'll always remember this night – it was the best surprise ever!" Justin said, smiling again.

"Debbie got the idea of everyone being here at once and giving you this little party. In her infinite wisdom, she decided that it was way too expensive for everyone to fly here round trip, so she browbeat everyone into driving here all together. Let me tell you, driving for seven hours with seven people crammed into an SUV that comfortably seats five is no picnic, especially when two of them are Emmett and his new boyfriend, who were making out half the time, and the other one is Hunter. Only your mother and Molly kept me sane. And poor Tucker, half the time he didn't know what to do with himself."

"Oh, God! That must have been an experience…" Justin tried to stifle laugh "you must tell me all about it sometime, some other time, I don't think my system can take it!" He said teasing.

"I am tempted to buy a one-way ticket and fly home, just to avoid being hit on by Hunter for seven hours straight. He's funny and sweet, but seven hours of that and I was ready to kill him. I wouldn't have missed your first solo show for the world, Justin, but for that you owe me big time!"

Justin bent at the waist in a mock bow and said in a simpering tone: "Anything - my life for you! You only have to ask!"

"Oh, that's a dangerous thing to say, cause I'll remember that and hold you to it, silly! OK, I'm beat. Let's go to sleep – you have a big day tomorrow."

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	20. An Unexpected Visitor

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 20 – An Unexpected Visitor**

A little earlier that same evening, Arthur Loring was locking up the gallery when he noticed a man leaning against a street light, smoking and looking at the gallery windows. There was something familiar about him, but the meager light was throwing shadows across his face.

"Can I help you?" Arthur asked.

"I heard about the show, but I can't attend tomorrow. I was hoping to see some of the pieces, if possible?" The man answered.

"No. We normally don't show anything until the opening. If an enterprising reporter or art critic was to see something he or she didn't like and then wrote about it in advance, it could not only ruin the show, but jeopardize a very promising art career in the process."

The man laughed and said: "Trust me, I am neither a reporter nor a critic."

Arthur came closer to the man and suddenly recognized him - the "ghost" from Justins' art was standing in front of him in the flesh.

"If you are looking for Justin, he isn't here."

"Why would you think I was looking for Justin?" The man asked in surprise.

"Because I know who you are – his inspiration, though he might try to deny it." Arthur thought for a moment, then made a decision: "Come on, I'll make an exception this one time. However, if I see an early review tomorrow morning, I'll know where it came from. A quarter of my family is Italian, you know, so I know people."

The man laughed: "Who? The butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker?"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh in return: "Sadly, yes, the whole damn family is in the arts. As threats go, that was pretty weak, but something tells me you won't sabotage the event tomorrow." He unlocked the door, turned off the alarm and turned on the lights.

"By the way, I'm Arthur Loring, nice to meet you."

"Brian Kinney."

The men shook hands and then Arthur said: "Welcome to the Justin Taylor showcase: "Ghosts, Devils and Angels". Have a look, let me know what you think."

Brian walked throughout the gallery, looking at Justin's work all around him. He was amazed; he has never seen Justin paint better.

"I didn't realize there were quite so many paintings," He mused "When he moved to New York, he had less then ten canvasses 100% completed."

"Sometimes I think he lives on paint fumes. They boy's painting every free minute he has, it seems. If he's not painting, he's sketching or drawing something. There was one week that I was actually worried for him because he didn't seem to sleep for several days, but he produced some incredible work."

Brian kept walking from canvas to canvas along the walls, then he turned around and froze when he saw his own face, stern, intense and glaring, staring directly at him from a pencil drawing, framed and mounted onto a freestanding wooden display in the center of the gallery, it was titled "Devil".

"What the fuck?" Brian whispered, shocked.

"You might want to see the other side." Arthur suggested.

Brian walked around the display and saw another drawing similarly framed and mounted on the other side - it was a drawing of him nude, seen from the back, in twisted perspective. He was drawn as if levitating in midair - his body gracefully arched, arms prostrate, his head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth slightly open as if on a sigh. The title of the piece was "Angel" and it was an intimate, sensual and an almost romantic piece without being overtly sexual. Brian was stunned.

"He's selling this?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes. Are you familiar with this drawing?" Arthur asked curiously.

"He drew it a few years ago, took him forever because of his hand. He said he had a dream once where I learned how to levitate and we were…never mind. He wouldn't give it to me. I tried to buy it from him, but he told me he wouldn't give it or sell it to anyone, ever."

"Then he has finally decided to let you go." Arthur said quietly.

"So it seems. What has he told you about us?"

"Very little, almost nothing in fact. But by looking just at his artwork alone I can guess quite a lot."

This explained the title of the show, Brian thought, **he** was the ghost, the angel and the devil and he was being systematically exorcised through artwork, with this pair of drawings as a focal point, a centerpiece. Suddenly Brian felt like he couldn't breathe, he had to get out.

"Thank you for the tour. I have no doubt the show will be a success. Please keep this visit just between us."

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked.

"Positive. Thanks again, I have to go." And with that, Brian walked out of the gallery.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	21. Ghosts, Devils and Angels

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 21 -** **Ghosts, Devils and Angels**

When Arthur Loring along with his staff put on an art show it always generated some publicity and was always worthy of notice as far as the critics and art enthusiasts were concerned. However, the fact that his gallery was promoting a little known, emerging artist for the first time in almost two decades created a veritable firestorm of curiosity and speculation. Everyone knew that Arthur would not stake his and the galleries' reputation on an unworthy subject. Therefore, Justin Taylor's name was on everybody's lips and everyone in the New York art scene was awaiting the show with great interest.

Arthur Loring shrewdly capitalized on the advance buzz and invited every important client and art collector in his acquaintance, along with every major art critic, art beat reporter and gallery owner he could think of. He even invited a couple of museum curators from MoMa and the Guggenheim, and a few friends from Christy's and Sotheby's auction houses. He knew that this was going to be a popular show, but even he was surprised at the attendance – it seemed that everyone who has received an invitation decided to show up and brought someone else along with them.

Since Justin was involved in every stage of planning and preparation for his own show, he was one of the first people to see the guest list. Every major name in the New York art world was on it and Justin knew that if these people panned his work, his career would pretty much be over. But then he realized that there was no reward without a little risk and if the show were to fail, he'd rather fail in one big blaze of glory and know it for sure, than languish in obscurity for years, hoping his small successes get recognized.

Even though spending the previous evening and some of the morning with his family and friends helped his stress level tremendously, it didn't mean that Justin wasn't nervous. He arrived at the gallery earlier than needed to make sure everything was ready. His family arrived en masse an hour before the doors were to open officially at 8 pm, both Arthur and Justin deciding that they deserved to see his work first, unobstructed by other people.

"Justin, this is amazing!" Lindsay said. "Your work…I've never seen you produce anything better – it's, it's…"

"Thanks, Linds!" Justin cut her off and gave her a hard hug. "You have no idea how much it means to me that you are here."

Suddenly Gus screamed "Daddy!". Everyone froze for a second, and then started to look around, but Brian was nowhere to be seen. At Gus's cry Justin's heart skipped a beat; he whirled around and was the first to realize that Gus, who wandered off on his own, was looking at the center display in the middle of the gallery at the drawing of his father's face. Justin felt like his heart was being squeezed from the inside. He walked up to Gus and picked him up. Gus wrapped his hands around Justin's neck, put his head on his shoulder, and quietly asked:

"Why is he mad, Justin? Did I do something? Is that why he is mad?"

"No, no, Gus! He isn't mad at you or at anyone. It's just a drawing. I haven't seen your dad in a long time since I moved and I was just trying to remember what he looked like when he was smiling and frowning and laughing. This is just one picture, that's all. I have lots of drawings of him when he's happy. I'll show you tomorrow or you can have one, if you want. OK?"

"OK." At that point Lindsay came up to them and Justin handed Gus into her arms.

"I need a minute," Justin said, shaken "I'll be right back."

He walked outside and started to look for his cigarettes, but he seemed to have forgotten them this time. Daphne came outside a couple of minutes later. She didn't say anything, just got out a cigarette, lit it and after taking a couple of quick puffs handed it to him. Justin took a deep drag, closed his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall slowly exhaled. Daphne watched him for about a minute, then softly kissed him on the cheek and went back inside without uttering a word.

Since the art gallery wasn't necessarily a kid friendly environment, Mel stayed just until the opening of the show and then took Gus and JR with her, with promises to bring the kids tomorrow for breakfast. Apparently they decided that since Lindsay was the one to "discover" Justin and to help him with his move to New York, she would stay for the entire evening.

When the gallery officially opened at eight and the guests poured in, Justin had no time to think about anything else but the show and his artwork. Arthur got a hold of him as soon as he walked back into the gallery and didn't let him go for what seemed like hours, introducing him to countless people. Everyone wanted to meet Justin and congratulate him on the show, but as flattering as it was, Justin wasn't sure exactly how sincere they were being.

When Justin finally got a minute to himself, Lindsay walked up to him and whispered into his ear:

"Congratulations! You are doing so well!"

"What do you mean I am doing well? All I've been doing is saying hello, shaking hands and saying thank you to about a hundred people. It's not exactly brain surgery."

"Justin, don't you see – they love your work! I've been walking around, talking to people and listening to their conversations and they really love your work. I keep hearing words like deep, meaningful, inspired, passionate, powerful, stimulating, sensual, intense, etcetera. You do realize that you've already sold some paintings? The show hasn't been open for an hour! I am so very proud of you!"

"Which paintings?" Justin asked in surprise.

At that point, Daphne, Emmett, and Ted came up all excited about how they witnessed an apparent bidding war that erupted between a couple of collectors over the "Angel & Devil" drawings of Brian. Apparently, one wanted just the "Angel" drawing and the other wanted both pieces. Daphne explained:

"They were politely arguing over who should get the drawings. They were smiling at each other through gritted teeth and then started arguing over who was going to pay what and were trying to outbid each other, like at an auction. And then the sales girl, Lysette, came up and marked both drawings as sold right in front of them. It was the funniest thing – both of their jaws dropped open. They were so busy arguing that someone else bought both pieces right under them!"

"Typical," said Ted, shaking his head, "Brian isn't even here and they are fighting over him. I wonder who bought the drawings."

"I heard it was a phone purchase..." Emmett said.

The rest of the show went by in a blur. Justin kept meeting more and more people, some of whom bought his paintings and were thrilled with the acquisition. His picture was constantly being taken with various people. Throughout the evening his friends and family periodically stopped by one by one to give him encouragement, their opinion on his paintings and drawings, and bits of gossip that they "spied" from around the gallery.

Debbie, looking magnificent in a fire engine red cocktail dress that somehow didn't clash with her ever-present red wig, was uncharacteristically subdued most of the night. When she and Carl came up to Justin in the latter part of the evening, she smiled hugely and quietly said:

"I am so fucking proud of you, Sunshine! Your moving to New York was the best fucking decision you've ever made. Congratulations honey!" Then she sniffed and fighting sudden tears in her eyes said: "Vic would've loved this. I wish he was here! Carl, give me a damn tissue."

Carl shook Justin's hand and said: "I don't know much about art, but I'd say your stuff belongs in a museum. I'm glad we came, I'm having a heck of a good time."

"Thank you!" Justin smiled "Thanks for coming, really. I don't know what I would've done, if none of you were here."

"Where else would we be? We are your fucking family!" Debbie said with sudden fierceness. Then she smiled and patted Justin's cheek affectionately. "Enjoy it, Sunshine! We'll talk to you a bit later, we'll go spy on your fans some more." And with a wink she dragged Carl along across the room.

To say that the show was a success would have been an understatement – all of Justin's drawings and all but ten paintings sold by the end of the night and judging by the things a couple of critics and reporters have said to him before they left, the reviews weren't going to be too shabby. As happy as Justin was, he was more relieved that he wasn't a complete failure and that he didn't let anyone, especially Arthur Loring, down. Arthur was so pleased with the results, that he was practically rubbing his hands in glee.

When the last of the guests left and all but Justin's family and gallery employees remained, Arthur brought out a several bottles of champagne that he had stashed in his office in a cooler and poured everyone a glass. He dramatically raised his high in the air and said:

"To Justin Taylor and his incredible talent!" and drained the glass.

Everyone followed suit and amid loud cheering, hand clapping and shouts of "Hear, hear!" and "Congratulations, Sunshine!" Justin suddenly felt like crying. Instead, he raised his glass that was still half full and with as bright a smile as he could muster said:

"Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart! I couldn't have done any of this without you. And a huge thank you to you, Mr. Loring for believing in me and in my work enough to give me this chance. I'll always be grateful and I will never forget it." Then he turned towards the center display with the Angel/Devil drawings of Brian, gave a curt, silent salute with his champagne flute and drained the contents in one swallow.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	22. 3 AM

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 20 – 3 AM**

Since the cleanup of the gallery was scheduled for the next morning, everyone was free to leave. Justin, emotionally wrung out, but physically wired didn't want the festivities to stop. Before everyone left the gallery, he asked:

"Now, who wants to go to Babylon…I mean Red Square and party?"

Ted, Blake, Michael, Ben, Emmett and his boyfriend all agreed to go out to the nightclub and celebrate, while everyone else was too tired and agreed to meet in the morning for breakfast.

Red Square, was Justin's favorite gay club in New York, not that he has been to many others, because the atmosphere so resembled that of Babylon. Every time he was there, it reminded him of Pittsburgh and it did so especially that night because the guys were there with him. While everyone got either beer or cocktails, Justin was doing shots. By the time everyone was finished with their first drink and got seconds, Justin downed three shots of tequila and with a predatory gaze scanned the dance floor. In a matter of minutes he spotted someone; with a wicked grin and a careless "He looks good, I'll see you on the dance floor…" he sauntered towards his quarry. The rest of the gang stood by the bar watching the scene with amusement. Ben was the first to comment on it:

"Ah, any of this looks disturbingly familiar somehow?"

Emmett replied: "Aw, our boy is all grown up!"

Michael snorted into his beer: "Yeah, all grown up to be a blond version of Brian fucking Kinney!"

Blake shrugged "It's OK. He's both celebrating and mourning."

"Mourning?" Emmett's boyfriend asked "What the hell could he be mourning? He's a fucking success!"

"You don't know him, or his and Brian's whole story." Ben replied. Michael nodded and said:

"I guess I didn't realize or didn't want to see it at first, but his paintings, his whole show were all about Brian. He is my best friend, but that selfish prick should have been there!"

"I don't think so. I think it would have made things worse." Ben replied, shaking his head.

"I didn't and don't know them as well as you all do," Blake said "but I see when someone is in pain and will do anything to dull it. I know that feeling a little too well. So, we'll watch out for him, make sure he doesn't do something stupid. He'll be OK."

And so they did. Even though the guys did have a lot of fun that night with drinks and dancing, they all tacitly agreed that they would take turns keeping an eye on Justin throughout the night and follow him discreetly wherever he went. They needn't have worried, however, Justin didn't go anywhere with anyone and was either on the dance floor or steadily drinking himself into a stupor at the bar. A couple of hours later, everyone decided that Justin has had enough and poured him into a cab. Ben and Michael went with him. Throughout the short ride to his apartment, Justin kept a non-stop one man conversation about the show, about New York and how incredibly happy he was, and how lucky he was to be out of Pittsburgh. Michael and Ben silently listened to his drunken chatter and when they arrived, carried him five flights of stairs to his place. Daphne met them at the door and after dumping him into his futon bed, clothes and all, Michael and Ben left. Daphne made Justin drink a glass of water with a couple of aspirin and then went back to bed.

Justin lay on his futon in a state of drunken exhaustion – his head already hurt, his body craved sleep, but his mind refused to shut down, thoughts whirring in his head like angry bees. A few minutes later, he got his cell phone out and dialed a familiar number.

"This is Brian Kinney. Leave a message. Thank you."

"You've changed your message. Nice touch adding a thank you at the end. It's good to hear your voice, too good. Its 3 am and I don't know why I am calling you. Blame the tequila, I found out that it fucks me up faster than Jim Beam. Actually it's because I sold you at the show today. Not you, you, but the drawing of you…the one where you are leviting, no that's not it…what do you call it? Flying. I told you that I would never sell it or give it away, but I had to. I had to because I can't do this anymore…It killed me, absolutely killed me that you weren't there tonight, but if you were there, it would have killed me even worse…I still love you and I want you so badly it hurts and I need you, especially now…But I know that you are not good for me, that you will never feel the same and that I have to stop all this shit, and maybe now that I've sold you I can move on. God, Brian, I am so fucking tired…Later…"

He clicked off the phone and fell asleep.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: I know its a bit angsty, but kind felt right. Please read and review!**


	23. Meanwhile in LA

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 23 – Meanwhile in L.A.**

Originally Brian planned to stay in New York the night of Justin's show and fly to L.A. the next day. He planned to station himself at a restaurant across the street and watch the happenings at the gallery from a table by the window for a couple of hours. But after seeing the paintings with Arthur Loring the night before, Brian couldn't bring himself to stay. So he changed his flight to Los Angeles for that evening and got into LAX past 10 pm local time. Brian was in the shower at the hotel when Justin called and didn't hear the phone.

When he heard the message for the first time he decided to forget all his decisions in regards to Justin, throw all caution to the wind and, for once, to follow his heart instead of his head. He decided to reschedule his meeting with the potential new client the next day and to go back to New York to be with Justin. He hastily repacked his travel bag and was about to call the airline to change his flight, when he decided to listen to Justin's message again. Then he listened to it a third time and a fourth, and a fifth. One thing kept repeating itself in his mind:

"…_I know that you are not good for me, that you will never feel the same and that I have to stop all this shit, and maybe now that I've sold you I can move on. God, Brian, I am so fucking tired…" _

A few minutes later, instead of the airline Brian called Lindsey, forgetting that it was well past three am on the East Coast. She quickly told him that the show was a big success, that Justin's life was about to change and will never be the same again. After he hung up, Brian unpacked his suitcase yet again and decided to stay in Los Angeles.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	24. After the Show

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 24 – After the Show**

Justin awoke at 8 am the next morning, with a bladder so full he thought it would burst and a raging hangover. When he got out of the shower, feeling slightly more human, Daphne was already up and pouring him a mug of fragrant coffee.

"Here, this first" she said, handing him a glass of water and some aspirin "I bet you feel like something scraped off of the side walk. God, Justin, how much tequila did you have?"

"I lost count after about six shots, but I think I threw most of it up in the bathroom at the club. I think someone gave me mouthwash. I think. Where's September?" Justin took the first sip of coffee and moaned in pleasure.

"She went home with her boyfriend. She should just move in with him already, sounds like she spends half the time at his place anyway."

"She's terrified that as soon as she gives up this rent control apartment, they'll break up. So she refuses to move in with him. Since this is New York and not Pittsburgh, I'm not going to argue with her. God, my head hurts!"

"I'm not surprised. Let the aspirin kick in and you'll feel better. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed. I don't know if you remember, but we are supposed to meet everyone for breakfast at nine. By the way, congratulations again on the show, Justin!" she said walking towards the bathroom.

"Wait. Daph, did I drunk call Brian last night? I think I did, but I am not sure. Maybe I dreamed it. Did I?"

"I don't know, Jus. I fell asleep pretty much as soon as Mike and Ben dumped your drunk ass on the futon and left. By the way, you really should get a real bed. You going to be OK?"

"Yeah, thanks Daph, you are the best!" Justin walked back into his bedroom to check his phone, but it was totally dead. He left it to charge and got dressed.

Thirty minutes later, he remembered the phone just as they were walking out the door.

"Shit, my cell. Give me a sec." He ran into the bedroom and checked the call log. There it was, outgoing call to Brian at 3:15 am; it lasted a little over four minutes. "Fuck me!"

"Justin, what's wrong?"

"I did drunk dial Brian last night. I think I left him a message, because I would've remembered talking to him, but I don't remember a word of what I said at all. God, how fucking stupid can I be?"

"Justin, get a grip! You've had what one might call a momentous day yesterday. You are allowed to be a little emotional and to drunk dial your ex. Millions of people do it every day, I have no doubt, and for much less valid reasons. God, I've drunk dialed my ex-boyfriend once! It's no big deal, trust me. And whatever you said on his voice mail, I'm sure Brian deserved it. Now, stop obsessing and let's go get some breakfast – I'm starved!"

On that note, Daphne walked out of the apartment and continued downstairs without waiting. You've got to admire Daphne, Justin thought, she sure knows how to cut through all the bullshit. He decided to follow her advice, locked the door and ran down after her.

The farewell breakfast was a lively affair and loud enough to make Justin's head reel, but he powered through his hangover. He made Gus's day by giving him a drawing of Brian's laughing face to take home. Lindsay promised Gus to frame it "just like Justin's pictures in a museum" and hang it in his bedroom when they got home. Everyone discussed the show, the people that were there, Justin's paintings, his success and what it was all going to mean to his future. Justin let the conversation swirl around him and just listened, content to have his family around him. He realized that as much as he loved living in New York, it was never going to be home and that he truly missed his friends and family. After breakfast, Lindsay and Mel needed to get ready for their flight back to Toronto and everyone else was anxious to get on the road for the long drive back to Pittsburgh. Justin unfortunately couldn't see everyone off since he was due at the gallery. Everyone bid him a tearful good bye and with yet more congratulations and plans for Christmas visits, they were gone.

Justin was walking to the gallery when he got a text alert. The text was from Brian and all it said was: "Sorry missed your show & call. Am in LA for meeting. Maybe next time. B." Justin read the text several times and a few minutes later he got another one, it said: "P.S. Congratulations!" Justin wanted to call him, but didn't know if he should, whether it would ruin his resolve to move on with his life. So he did the only thing that made sense – he sent a text back saying "Thanks".

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	25. An Offer He Can't Refuse

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 25 – An Offer He Can't Refuse**

When Justin arrived at the gallery at 11 am, the cleaning crew was on its way out having just finished clearing up after the show the night before. The gallery was strangely deserted – it seemed that no one has made it in to work yet, which was an unusual thing. Justin knew that if anyone was definitely there, it would be Arthur. Justin knocked on his boss's door and after a quiet "Enter" walked into another surprise. Every employee of the gallery was assembled in Arthur's office and a second later the room erupted with applause. A couple of people brought in a cake that featured a lonely candle lit in the center and three caricatures around it: a cartoon-like devil with enormous horns, a Botticelli-style baby angel with wings and Casper, the Disney ghost. Arthur stood up and when the applause died down said:

"This little gathering here is to celebrate the gallery, all of us and all of our hard work. We are also here to commemorate Justin Taylor's first show with us and to welcome him into the Arthur Loring family not just as an employee and a friend, but as one of our featured artists. We all hope that yesterday's opening was the first of many in the years to come!"

Arthur and Justin shook hands and at that moment Justin realized that this was the true beginning of his art career – everything else was just a prelude to this moment. After coffee and cake, Arthur and Justin had a more serious meeting where they formalized Justin's association with the gallery. Arthur offered Justin a two year contract that gave the gallery and Arthur Loring exclusivity in showing his works in New York City, after all his current commitments with other galleries expire, to have first choice of paintings until that happens, and to act as Justin's representative if he were to have a show or exhibition in another city. The contract also guaranteed two to three shows of his work, depending on the number of paintings available. At the end of the two years both parties could renegotiate the terms. The contract also left Justin free to enter any art competitions he desired to participate in or to accept commission pieces from private clients.

This was more than Justin expected to achieve so soon after moving to New York. It hasn't even been a year and here he was, being offered yet another opportunity of a lifetime. He realized that circumstance, luck and Lindsay played an enormous part in his success and without those things it would have taken him years, if not decades, longer to get to just this point. As far as Justin was concerned, Arthur Loring was offering him the world on a platter and Justin agreed to Arthur's terms without hesitation, intending to make the most of this incredible opportunity.

Justin had enough savings from the winnings of the national competition, his previous art sales and Rage that he could live for six months without having to work at all. Arthur suggested that Justin do exactly that and concentrate on his art completely. At Justin's hesitation, Arthur quoted the sales figures from yesterday's show and he was amazed that he made enough money to support himself for the length of the entire two year contract, at least when it came to rent and bills. Regardless, Justin insisted on keeping his job at the gallery, convinced that at least for the time being, the money was better off accruing interest in a bank. As confident as he was of his talent, his experience in Hollywood definitely taught him to be more cautious and not to take anything for granted. Justin didn't intend to end up with nothing again, if his sudden success turned out to be nothing more than the flavor of the week in the tough New York art market.

He needn't have worried that his work would fall out of favor so soon. In fact, the remaining unsold pieces from his opening were sold by end of week. When the reviews of the show came out soon after, which almost unanimously praised Justin's artwork, the paintings hanging at the Dozier Gallery, Mercer Fine Arts and the Newberg Gallery and his charcoal drawings at the Watson gallery were all sold within a month.

However, Arthur's offer did convince Justin to quit working at the art supply store. He celebrated that decision by using his employee discount one last time to buy enough canvases, sketchpads, paints, brushes and other supplies to last him for a good long while. For the next few weeks, his apartment walls were covered with blank canvases, which were gradually replaced by completed paintings, and every available space in his bedroom was jam-packed with art supplies.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, unless its a character that I introduced.**

**A/N: Again, I have no idea how things really work in the art world, as far as gallery contracts are concerned. This is all my imagination or my vision for what I would have liked to have happened to Justin. Any inaccuracies or deviations from reality are my own fault. Please read and review!**


	26. A Country Manor

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 26 – A Country Manor**

At the end of the fiscal year, Ted told Brian that Kinnetik did even better than in the two previous years combined and even with all the revenue lost due to the bombing and the reconstruction time, Babylon managed to turn a decent profit as well. As the year before, Ted suggested that Brian do something constructive with the money he has personally earned and suggested real estate among his other investments. Brian laughed off the idea, saying that he'll never find or need anything more perfect for him than his loft.

A few days later, while walking to his car from a lunch meeting with a client, he passed a real estate office and a featured property posted on the window suddenly caught his eye. It was a beautiful country house, a mansion really, about half an hour away from Pittsburgh. The photographs showed a huge fireplace in the living room, another one in the master bedroom, a gorgeous library/home office and a sun-dappled, enclosed sun room that could be used year-round. The brochure mentioned that the house sat on a five acre wooded lot and included stables and a pool. Reading those words brought Brian out of his stupor; he turned around and quickly left.

Try as he might, however, he couldn't get the house out of his mind and was thinking about it two weeks later. Finally, thoroughly frustrated with himself, he decided that the only way to forget the house was to see it with his own eyes and he knew the perfect person who would be rational enough to talk him out of the ridiculous notion of buying the place – Jennifer Taylor. He called her immediately:

"Hi, Jennifer. Its Brian Kinney, I need a favor…"

"Hello, Brian. Do you realize what time it is? It's past midnight and I'm in bed!"

"Well, you are obviously not asleep, so no harm done. Unless, of course, Tucker is there and I am interrupting. If that's the case, my apologies to you both, but this really can't wait. See, there's this house. I have to see it, in order to get it the fuck out of my mind. I need you to show it to me as soon as possible, tomorrow would be best. Can you do it?"

"Are you high, Brian, drunk maybe?"

"No, Jennifer, I am not high, I am not drunk. I am completely fucking sober and perfectly serious. Listen, are you listening? I saw the ad in the window of the real estate company you work for, I don't know whether it's your office or not. But, I need to see the house. Just do me this one favor….please."

"Oh, all right! What information do you have? I'll see what I can find out and call you back…tomorrow morning!"

Jennifer's curiosity won out, though, so she got up and looked up the information right away. When she realized which house he was talking about, she was rather astonished. But this was Brian Kinney after all, so Jennifer decided it was worth the time to take the trip out there on a Saturday - she just had to know what his reaction to the house would be. The next morning she called to tell Brian that they could in fact see it that day. Brian insisted on driving and with an "I'll pick you up in an hour" hung up.

When they got there, Brian wanted to see the grounds first and the house after. He made a few choice comments about the tennis court and the woods, but as they looked at the stables he grew quiet; when they reached the pool and then the house he stopped talking completely. The entire time Jennifer showed him the interior of the house, Brian was utterly silent. He walked from room to room without saying a word and without any expression on his face.

"So, thoughts?" Jennifer asked at the end of the tour.

"I want to see the studio, I mean the sun room again, please" he asked.

"Sure, this way."

Brian walked in to the sunlit space, made a circle around the room a couple of times, and then stopped in front of the French doors that led to the yard. He stood there, lost in thought for a good five minutes, but before Jennifer could interrupt, he suddenly said:

"I'll take it."

"What?" At Jennifer's shocked gasp, Brian turned around:

"I want to make an offer on the house and I want you to handle the purchase for me. I am sure the commission will be well worth any effort on your part."

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, no infringement intended.**


	27. Holiday Blues

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 27 – Holiday Blues**

Justin was dreading Thanksgiving. 

The closer it got to the holidays, the more nervous he became about going home to Pittsburgh. It seemed that over the last year, especially after the bombing at Babylon and him moving out to New York, Debbie and Jennifer have grown closer than ever and became the unlikeliest of best friends. The both of them had so much fun in New York at dinner before Justin's show and then at breakfast the next morning, they decided to recreate that happy atmosphere during the Thanksgiving meal by celebrating it all together and they invited absolutely everyone. Thus, every conversation Justin had with his mother and Debbie starting in November began with them asking him when and how he planned to come home and how long he planned to stay. Justin kept putting them off with various excuses, but eventually, just a week before the holiday while talking to Jennifer he blurted out the truth that he wasn't ready.

"Not ready? Not ready for what?" she cried in bewilderment.

"To come home, to see...everyone..."

"You mean Brian. You are not ready to see Brian. But why, honey? After you broke up and before you moved away you saw him all the time...I don't..."

"Mom, things are different now. Seeing him on a semi-regular basis in town is one thing. I knew how to be around him then. But I haven't seen or talked to him in months and nothing is the same. The distance has been good for me, but I haven't had enough time. I haven't even been here a year, I need more time to be on my own."

"Justin, I am talking about the Thanksgiving weekend, not your entire life. Coming here to spend the holidays with your family and friends doesn't entail a life-long commitment. As for Brian, you'll have to see him eventually, you can't avoid him or Pittsburgh forever, Justin."

"I know, but its not just about Brian - I am not ready to see all of it yet. And no, I am not ready to see him either."

"What about Christmas?"

"Come to New York, you and Molly. We'll go to Rockefeller Center, we'll go ice skating in Central Park, we'll go to the Met, to MoMa, we'll see a play, we'll..."

"Justin, are you ever coming home?" Jennifer interrupted quietly.

"Yes, of course I am, but not this year. I just can't or, rather, won't this time around. Who knows, maybe by next holiday season I'll be able to support myself entirely with my art and won't have to worry about getting time off from work. Maybe next year I'll come home for a month, you know, Thanksgiving to Christmas, even New Year."

"You promise, Justin?"

"No, I can't promise that. But I will promise that I'll spend at least one holiday with you in Pittsburgh next year, mom. I will promise that."

"I'll hold you to it! What are you going to do for Thanksgiving? I hope you are not going to be alone. Do you have someplace to go?"

"Don't worry, mom, I'll be fine. September is going home, so I'll have the place entirely to myself. I'll paint, I'll sleep, I'll paint, I'll make sure to eat some turkey on Thanksgiving and I'll paint..."

"OK, OK, OK, I get the point – you want some alone time to paint. I just don't want you to be lonely, honey, or unhappy."

"Actually, I don't mind being alone on Thanksgiving, it's not my favorite holiday anyway. Just make sure you are here for Christmas and that'll make me very happy. Deal?"

"Deal! Well, Debbie won't be happy about this!"

"I'm sorry. Just make something up as to why I am not there and give her my love. I'm sure she'll understand."

"Oh, no, my dear! You are going to have to tell her yourself that you aren't going to be there. I'll leave that lovely chore to you. Bye, Justin, love you!" With that, she hung up. 

Debbie was at first furious that she won't have Sunshine at her Thanksgiving table, but eventually, she did understand. Justin was extremely relieved that he wouldn't be going home for the holidays. Something deep inside was telling him that if he went back now, especially if he saw Brian, he wouldn't return; he'd find some excuse to stay and would probably ruin the momentum his career has started to gain as a result of the solo show. If missing the big marathon dinner event at Debbie's did give him twinges of sadness and envy, he ruthlessly pushed them aside and spent the few days he had off work during Thanksgiving weekend at the studio either painting or sleeping. 

Christmas came and went with relative quiet. Since Molly spent Thanksgiving with her father and his new wife, she was able to come to New York with Jennifer for Christmas and the three Taylors spent a few fun-filled days exploring New York City that was adorned with holiday decorations and a blanket of beautiful white snow. It was the first Christmas that Justin has spent away from Pittsburgh, but having his mother and sister there with him prevented it from becoming bittersweet; in fact, they made Christmas a much happier time than Justin expected it to be. By the 27th, Justin was alone again, at least for a few days, and couldn't wait for the holidays to be finally over. 

**Disclaimer: All belongs to CowLip and Showtime. No infringement intended.**

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in so long – my imagination was buried under a mountain of moving boxes. Now that I've settled into my new place I can write again (YAY!). Anyway, I know this chapter is a bit on the short and boring side, but for some reason I just couldn't edit it completely out. I just had to keep it in the story, not sure why. Speaking of length, I want to explain why my chapters are so short. There are two reasons for that - as a first time writer, it was just easier for me to keep track of Justin's and Brian's separate story lines as well as the chapters. The second reason is a bit on the symbolic side - it felt right to keep Justin and Brian's POVs completely separate at least until they meet again. A big thank you to those who've been reading/reviewing this story and I hope you will continues to do so until the epilogue (which, incidentally, I've already written)! See you on the next page.**


	28. Visions

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 28 – Visions**

Brian was dreading Thanksgiving. 

He was tired of listening to everyone's stories of the fabulous time they all had in New York and how they couldn't wait to be all together again over the holidays. Debbie enlisted Emmett's help in transforming her living room, dining nook and kitchen into something that would resemble the little Italian restaurant where they all had dinner before Justin's show in New York. She was going all out for Justin and the family with her usual boundless enthusiasm and everyone went along with it because, frankly, they were a little afraid to say no. Brian, however, had no problem telling Debbie that the whole idea of trying to recreate New York in her kitchen was a bit ridiculous and unnecessary, but before he could continue she shot him down. She told him in no uncertain terms that his ass better be there at her house for Thanksgiving dinner with the rest of the family or she'll do him bodily harm. Brian told her that he'd be there, just to shut her up. 

A week before Thanksgiving he closed on the country house and met Jennifer in her office in order to sign the final paperwork and get the keys.

"Well, congratulations, Brian - you are now a homeowner!" Jennifer said handing him the keys and his copies of the documents.

"Ah, thanks Jennifer, but I've owned property for quite some time now."

"Property, yes. But, I wouldn't call your loft a home, exactly. As I've said once before, it's a fuck-pad. The house, on the other hand, is more of what my idea of a home is. Granted, I've nothing against your loft personally. Well, not anymore. It suits you very well and Justin was happy there for a time...Sorry..."

"Why are you sorry? And you are right, it does suit me very well. It's perfect, in fact. I've been happy there too for a time."

"What are you going to call it?"

"It?"

"The house, Brian. A house like that deserves a name. I'm actually surprised the previous owners who've lived there for decades haven't come up with some fancy moniker. It might have even gotten them more money, who knows."

"It's a house, Jennifer, not a dog or a child. I am not as pretentious as to name a big pile of bricks, even nice, expensive ones."

"OK, no name then. So, when are you moving in? After the holidays? If you need any help, I..."

"Moving? Who the hell said anything about moving?"

"Wait...You just bought a gorgeous house and you aren't planning on living there? Why the hell did you buy it then?"

"Theodore said something about real estate being an excellent investment at the moment. I had money to invest, I saw, I wanted, I got – simple as that."

"Well, as an investment property you can't really do much better than a country manor with some land, stables and a pool..." Suddenly, Jennifer remembered those words being said by Justin almost verbatim and she finally understood, "Brian, you didn't! The studio...That's why you called the sun room a studio. Why didn't I realize this before? You bought the house for him, didn't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Jennifer. I'll admit that the reason I noticed the house at all was because I remembered Justin's words about the pool and the stables. However, he and I haven't been together in a long time. Besides, even if we were still together, I am not the home and hearth type, you know this. So, whatever crazy train you were about to board, don't bother. This house is just a house and is nothing but an investment property. In any case, thank you for your help."

"What are you talking about – thank you! The commission on this is going to add a substantial chunk to Molly's college fund. She won't have to worry about her asshat of a father setting conditions or giving ultimatums. She'll be able to study whatever and wherever she wants and she won't have to rely on anyone." Jennifer said happily.

"Jennifer, you know that if you ever need money..."

"Brian, now who's being ridiculous? It's very sweet of you, but you've already done a lot for us, for my family. I am grateful. But, you don't have to worry about us anymore, you know?"

"I know and I am not worried. If anyone can come through the worst of circumstances and be all right it's you Taylors...well, at least three of you – I don't count your asshole of an ex-husband. By the way, when I mentioned the money, I was talking about a college scholarship we have at Kinnetik. If you ever need to pad that college fund a bit more, Molly can apply."

"Since when does Kinnetik have a college scholarship?" Jennifer asked suspiciously.

"Since now. It's a good tax deduction, ask Theodore." Brian smirked, then he bent down, kissed Jennifer on the cheek to her astonishment and said: "You are a good mother - Molly is lucky to have you. So is Justin. I've gotta go. Thanks again, mother Taylor." As he turned to leave, Jennifer stopped him and seemed on the verge of saying something, but after a minutes' hesitation all she said was:

"I'll see you next Thursday at Debbie's?"

"Yeah...Thursday..." he replied and walked out. 

Brian planned to go back to Kinnetik offices, but he somehow ended up on the road out of Pittsburgh and towards the house. He hasn't been back since making an offer a month ago, letting Jennifer to take care of everything for him.

Brian walked into the silent house, his footsteps echoing in the gloomy hallway. He went upstairs to check out the master bedroom suite. It was as spacious as he remembered with a handsome fireplace now cold and dark. Brian walked into the ultra modern and sleek bathroom, which was recently updated by the previous owners to look like something that wouldn't have looked out of place in Brian's loft. He walked to the sink and as he turned on the water he thought he heard a noise. He quickly turned off the tap, walked back into the bedroom and froze – the room was inexplicably transformed. He saw a gorgeous four poster bed, the comforter hanging half way off the mattress and the sheets thrown about in a twisted mess. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, yet the windows were wide open, pouring golden sunshine inside and sheer curtains billowed in a warm breeze. A groan involuntarily ripped out of this throat when he saw Justin, naked but for the towel around his hips, walk into the room and say laughingly to an unseen presence somewhere in the room "Brian, as romantic as this is and I love you for the idea, but lighting the fireplace in the middle of June is madness! I am roasting over here..." Brian rapidly blinked and when he opened his eyes again the room was empty, chilly and Justin-free once more. Brian vigorously shook his head, thinking that he should have gotten more sleep the night before. 

He went towards the studio next. He cautiously looked into the studio before stepping inside – it was as empty as it was when he first saw it with Jennifer, except this afternoon the room was rather gloomy due to the depressing November weather outside. He walked to the French doors, looked out at the yard for a few minutes and then turned to leave. At the threshold he looked back and the room was flooded with unexpected light. He saw Justin, wearing old, paint-streaked cargo pants and a gray t-shirt, standing in front of an easel set up near the French doors and wielding a large brush loaded with cerulean paint in his paint-stained fingers. Brian cleared his throat and the vision disappeared in the blink of an eye. "OK, this is getting weird even for me..." Brian thought to himself. In the past, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would've chalked it up to aftereffects of one drug or another obtained from his Babylon "pharmacologist". However, he hasn't been using anything chemical besides extra strength Tylenol in several months. He was suddenly thankful that he just had a full physical a couple of weeks ago and was pronounced in perfect health and cancer free, except for a bullshit diagnosis of "overwork and exhaustion", otherwise he would've been worried about brain tumors or some-such unpleasantness. 

He decided to check out the main living room before heading out. He walked along a row of tall windows into the cavernous room that was dominated by an enormous fireplace, trailing his fingers through the dust that settled on the windowsill. He walked all around the room several times and was relieved when no visions appeared. He turned around and walked towards the front door. He opened it and was about to leave, when something within him compelled him to turn back towards the living room. He deliberately walked back, but the space was as empty and as cold as before, except for a faint echo of Justin's voice that said "I'll marry you...I'll marry you!" fading into silence.

"Maybe exhaustion and overwork wasn't such a bullshit diagnosis after all. I have got to get the fuck out of here and get some serious sleep or I am going to go insane!" Brian said aloud and quickly left the house. 

His phone rang as he was about to get into the car – it was Jennifer Taylor.

"Jennifer, did I forget something?"

"No. Brian I...I thought of a name for your house - Britin Manor. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Grand, but not too terribly pretentious. What do you think?" she asked softly.

Brian didn't answer for a minute, he leaned against the car and tightly shut his eyes. "Britin Manor, huh?" he finally answered, "OK, mother Taylor, if you insist. Britin Manor it is. Thanks."

"You are welcome. Bye."

"Bye." He shut off the phone and then looking at the house said "All right, I admit it, I bought you for him! But if you continue fucking with me with all this vision crap, I'll sell you so fast you...Fuck! I am standing here talking to a goddamn house. I am now officially insane or I really, really need a vacation. That's it, I need a fucking vacation!" 

Brian realized that he hasn't had any substantial time off in a couple of years, and he finally admitted to himself that he has been doing nothing but working non-stop (not counting a couple of days once a month to visit Gus in Canada) since his aborted trip to the gay Mardi Gras in Sydney. After seeing visions of Justin around the house, he suddenly wasn't sure if he was up for the whole ordeal of a big Thanksgiving event at Debbie's with the entire family. As much as he wanted and looked forward to seeing Justin again, a part of him was actually afraid that in his current exhausted mental and physical state he'll completely lose his cool and beg him to stay. 

Decision made, he called Cynthia and told her that he won't be in for the rest of the day and the minute he got to the loft, he fell naked into bed and proceeded to sleep for the next 16 hours. When he got to the office the next day, he completely rearranged his schedule for an entire month beginning with the Thanksgiving holidays and until right after New Years. He reassigned a few accounts and delegated a few of his pitches to other people, postponed a few meetings until after the holidays and called a staff meeting of all the department heads, including Ted and Cynthia. A few people were happy about being given new responsibilities and opportunities, but Ted and Cynthia were growing suspicious with every passing minute. After the meeting they stayed behind and asked him why he was reorganizing an entire month out off his calendar. Brian, preoccupied with last minute details, replied:

"I need a vacation, so I am going to Ibiza. And before you start on me for abandoning you and the company in your hour of need, I'll be available by phone, email, fax, even webcam, if any emergencies arise and you absolutely have to see me." When neither Cynthia nor Ted said anything he looked over and was shocked to see Cynthia blinking back tears and Ted looking like he was in mourning. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?"

"It's back, isn't it?" Ted asked, "The cancer."

Brian laughed, "What the hell gave you that idea? I am fine, except I'm in desperate need of some sun, sea and beautiful men frolicking naked around me. You'll be able to reach me, if I am needed, though Kinnetik is a well-oiled machine that can take care of itself for a month without me, especially in your capable hands. Now, I have things to do, so get the hell out of my office."

Ted and Cynthia left the office worried more than ever. Ted got his cell phone out and said, "I'll be damned if he's going to go through this by himself again. I am calling everyone!" 

When Brian got back home later that evening, the found the entire family congregated at the loft.

"How the hell did you get in and what are you doing here? I thought Thanksgiving was next week."

"Cut the crap, Brian, you know full well I have a set of keys," Michael retorted, "And this time you are not going to push any of us out. We are all going to help you through this whether you like it or not."

"Help me through what exactly?"

"Last time you were hell bent on going to Ibiza at the last moment you ended up having cancer surgery in Baltimore instead. You pushed everyone away, broke up with Justin and were a complete asshole to mom," Michael shouted. "We are not letting you do this again..."

"So, you better fucking tell us exactly what's going on and we are not leaving here until we find out!" Debbie finished Michael's thought.

Brian glared at Ted, "Theodore, you are going to pay for this! First of all, I do not have cancer. I just had a physical and I am in perfect health, surprising though it may be. Second of all, I really do need a vacation. Aren't you all telling me that I work too hard? Well, I am for once taking your advice, as well as my doctors' - who said I may be a little bit run-down. So, I promise you that I am, in fact, cancer-free and I am definitely going to Ibiza."

"When are you leaving?" Jennifer asked.

"Wednesday."

"You are going to miss Thanksgiving dinner?" Debbie was outraged, "You promised you'd be there!"

"No, I definitely never promised that. As much as a reprisal of a New York evening in your kitchen appeals to me, Deb, I think I'll be better off getting some in sunny Ibiza," he said sarcastically, "though in retrospect my choice of a vacation destination might have been poorly chosen. I should've thought of going to fucking Goa instead, maybe then you wouldn't be so damn suspicious."

"Well, damn! Sunshine won't be here, Lindsay and Mel can't come and now I find out you are leaving – some Thanksgiving it's going to be! You are ruining my entire plan." Debbie complained.

"Why isn't Justin coming?" Brian asked in surprise.

"He gave some bullshit excuse about wanting to spend his first Thanksgiving and Christmas in New York, though I am damn certain that wasn't the real reason."

"Sorry, but I need to get the hell out of Pittsburgh for a bit. I am fucking tired of this miserable cold and it's only November – I need some sunshine in my life."

"You don't say?" Debbie said pointedly.

"Don't go there, Deb. Anyway, thank you all for coming and for your unsolicited concern, but can you all get the fuck out of here? I still have some work to do, especially since I am leaving for a fucking month." 

Brian planned to spend an entire month in Ibiza, but after a week he had enough of the Spanish island and moved on to a resort in the French riviera, after that he spent a week in Italy. Unfortunately, various visions of Justin continued to pop up once in a while everywhere he went. Brian finally realized that they were not products of a disturbed or a diseased mind, but harmless daydreams of a future he chose to reject. With that realization came a decision to stop running from country to country and to do at least one thing he actually wanted to do – so he went to Toronto to spend Christmas and New Year with Gus.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to CowLip and Showtime. No infringement intended.**

**A/N: Thank you to all those who are reading and reviewing! Please continue to do so, it is much appreciated.**


	29. New Year's Eve

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 29 – New Years Eve, New York**

Arthur Loring Gallery had an annual Holiday Party that by all accounts was an event not to be missed. It seemed that for that one night everyone who was related to the owner, worked for, or was associated with the gallery in any way at all came to the party and left their professionalism, propriety, inhibitions and good sense at the door. All the employees were expected to make an appearance for a minimum of 30 minutes to glad hand with the family and their biggest clients, and then they were free to leave if they wished, but it was rare when anyone has actually done so. Justin, as both an employee and an artist in residence, was not so subtly urged to plan on spending the entire evening there. Fortunately, he was actually looking forward to the event, especially since Daphne was coming to visit for New Years and agreed to go with him.

When Justin and Daphne arrived at the gallery at 8 pm, the place was already hopping with party-goers; it seemed a number of people arrived early as well and more kept coming as time went on. Justin wanted to say hello to Mr. Loring first, but his and Daphne's progress was constantly interrupted by other people. When they finally reached him, Mr. Loring warmly greeted them both and introduced him to several family members and clients standing around him. Everyone seemed to know who Justin was, even though he hasn't personally met half of those people. This kind of attention was still very new and slightly embarrassing for him, while Daphne loved every minute of it.

"I feel like a Ron Weasley to your Harry Potter, Jus" she said to him with a smile when they were alone again "I bask in the reflected glow of your fame!"

"Shut up, Daphne!" Justin said laughing, "I don't really want to be famous, I want my art to be, if that makes any sense."

"Somehow, I don't think you'll be able to separate the two. Anyway, I am parched and in great need of a drink. Let's get some champagne!"

On their way to the bar set up on the other side of the gallery, Daphne suddenly stopped and whispered:

"Justin, there are a couple of guys at the bar looking at us. Problem is I don't know if they are looking at you, me or both of us."

"Which ones?" Justin asked curiously.

"The ones Mr. Loring's talking to."

"Oh, they are his relatives; I've seen their pictures in his office. One's his son, Andrew, he's a photographer for the National Geographic. The other one's his nephew, Jacob Frost, a grad student at NYU – physics, I think."

"Which one is which?"

"I have no idea, neither looks anything like him!" Justin suddenly realized "They've both been abroad until recently and Mr. Loring mentioned them to me only in passing, so I've never asked. Oh, as far as who's looking at whom – I know one of them is gay and the other isn't. So, it's safe to assume they are looking at both of us."

"Again, which is which?"

"Again, no idea, but if I had to guess, I'd say the curly haired one with glasses is the gay science nerd nephew and the tall, dark haired one that looks like a rock star is Loring's son, the photographer. Well, let's go meet them."

When Daphne and Justin came up to the bar, Mr. Loring immediately said:

"Justin, Daphne, I'd like you to meet my son Andrew Loring and my nephew Jacob Frost. Oh, someone's trying to get my attention. Excuse me, I'll let you all get acquainted." And walked away.

Since Justin happened to stand next to the curly-haired be-speckled geek he extended a handshake to him first and said:

"It's nice to meet you, Jacob. I'm Justin Taylor and this is my best friend Daphne Chanders." Both young men suddenly laughed. "I am actually Andrew Loring. Great to meet you Justin, Daphne."

At Justin's embarrassed expression, Andrew said:

"Don't worry, you aren't the first or the last one to mistake me for this moron next to me. I know he looks more like a bohemian photographer than I do, but what can you do. I think it's the glasses. Unfortunately contact lenses bother the hell out of my eyes, so I am stuck with these for the foreseeable future."

The four reintroduced themselves, laughing. When Justin and Jacob Frost shook hands, looked at each other and smiled, Justin experienced the unmistakable twinges of genuine attraction for another person. He hasn't felt anything remotely like it since meeting Ethan a few years ago and felt nothing like it at all since moving to New York. He hasn't been a monk in the last ten months – when he needed someone, though it wasn't very often, he would go to McDean's Pub or Red Square night club and the "someone" was easily available. But it was never anything more than just sex and though Justin always asked their name, he rarely remembered it after. This, however, was different. It was nothing like what he felt for Brian, but it was attraction nonetheless and he took it as a hopeful sign that he was finally ready for dating.

The four spent some time drinking champagne, chatting and getting to know each other, but as soon as the DJ that Arthur hired for the night officially started the party, Daphne and Andrew, who got on like a house on fire, were the first ones on the dance floor showing off their moves. They were soon joined by most of the partying crowd. The DJ that the gallery hired was a good one – whether by specific request or on his own he played an eclectic mix of songs ranging from top 40 hits, to dance remixes, rock ballads from the 80's, R&B, salsa and blues, everything that appealed to pretty much everyone present at the party, no matter their age or background.

"Want to dance? Those two are putting everyone else to shame" Justin said after a while, pointing to Daphne and Andrew.

"Ah, I'm told I have decent moves only when I am sufficiently plastered. I am nowhere near that point yet," Jacob replied "give me a bit of time, two or three or four more glasses of champagne and we can show everyone how it's done. Until then, sorry, no - I am way too self-conscious!"

Justin laughed and they watched the crowded dance floor in companionable silence. Suddenly, the music changed and Daphne and Andrew began to swirl in a graceful waltz to a big band tune from the 40's. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, giving them the floor. Justin's smile grew strained; he downed the last sip of champagne from his flute and said:

"All right, more champagne it is!" He quickly turned around, leading the way back to the bar. Rationally, he knew that it was just a trigger that reminded him of the night he was bashed. And even though it was not a flashback, which he hasn't had in a couple of years, and it was nothing like that night, everything was different – the music, the dance, the partners, the setting - something about that scene was somehow unsettling and he felt like getting away.

"So, your uncle tells me you are a fan of Rage." He said taking a big gulp of champagne that went down the wrong way. As he sputtered, Jacob helpfully thumped his back. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, thanks. Drink went down the wrong way. No offense to the dancers, they are beautiful, but there's something about big band music that just sets my teeth on edge…" He said.

"Want to go outside and get some air?" Jacob suggested.

"Yes, that would be good." Outside Justin leaned against the wall and got out a cigarette, "I hope you don't mind if I smoke. I'd offer you one, but it happens to be my last." He closed his eyes and started smoking.

"No, go ahead." Jacob studied Justin unnoticed for a few minutes. He guessed that something wasn't quite right, but decided against asking about it. Instead, he brought the conversation back on what seemed like safer ground.

"So, Rage, yeah…I am a big fan actually. A friend of mine introduced me to it, showed me the very first issue. It blew me away, there's never really been anything like it before. When Uncle Art told me that one of the creators worked in his gallery I was flabbergasted. Didn't think you'd need a day job, but..."

"Yeah, underground comic books don't exactly pay the big bucks." Justin chuckled "Michael and I were going to stop writing Rage, but then the bombing at Babylon happened and we just had to continue. That was our most successful issue to date, especially since it came out in conjunction with the reopening of the club. We just finished working on the next issue, though it took us a lot longer to complete."

"So, how much of it is autobiographical?"

"Well, all the superpowers, of course, the rest is all made up" Justin joked. He stabbed out the remainder of his cigarette, shook his head and sighed. "Thanks, I needed to get away for a couple of minutes. And if you are really interested in Rage, I'll tell you all about it, everything you want to know, but another time, OK? Some of those "made up" parts aren't really party conversation."

"OK, when?"

"Whenever, really. Well, not this weekend or most of the week – I am spending the time with Daphne when I am not working."

"Are you free next Friday night? If you are working, that's OK. I'll wait. We can just go out later for coffee or dinner, or a beer."

"Are you asking me out on an actual date or just a friendly chat about the comic book?"

"A date, definitely a date! If you are interested and only if you aren't seeing anyone."

Justin laughed: "I am definitely not seeing anyone and I am definitely interested. Next Friday it is then, around 8 pm? There's a decent coffee shop around the corner. We can start with coffee, OK?"

"OK." Jacob replied with a huge smile on his face.

"Well," Justin said ominously "I don't care how many glasses of champagne you have or have not consumed, because I am in the mood to dance and you are coming with me!" He declared and grabbing Jacobs' hand ran inside to join the party.

Once inside, they joined Daphne and Andrew at the bar and unanimously decided to switch to tequila in order to give Jacob some extra liquid courage. Several shots later, no one was feeling self-conscious at all and the rest of the night was spent on the dance floor. When the countdown to New Year began, Justin was looking at no one but Jacob and as their lips met at midnight, he thought that all things considered it was a pretty incredible night.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, except for the characters that I've introduced. Of course, the HP characters belong to JK Rowling.  
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**A/N: About the introduction of Jacob Frost's character – please bear with me. There is a method to my madness.**


	30. After the Party

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 30 – After the Party  
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The party went on until past two AM. As Daphne and Justin drunkenly staggered back to the apartment, propping each other up, they laughed almost non-stop, talking about the night's events. It was apparently one of the tamer New Years Eve parties at the gallery. For example, no one got on the dessert table and did a strip-tease to "You May Leave Your Hat On", as someone did the year before. But there were still plenty of memorable moments, like when Arthur Loring did a sexy Argentine tango with his wife to everyone's astonishment, or when Audra Loring, the owner's daughter attempted to teach salsa to a pair of octogenarian clients of the gallery. Everyone had a fantastic time, especially Justin and Daphne. When they finally got to the apartment, they realized that no one was home; September was spending the night with her boyfriend John again, apparently.

Daphne dramatically fell on the couch as soon as she walked in and moaned: "Justin, I'm in love!"

"With whom?" He said and lay down on the floor beside the couch.

"Andrew…" she sighed.

"Andrew, the geeky science nerd with glasses who dances like a god?"

"No, Justin. Andrew, the nerdy-but-dashing photographer with glasses who travels the globe, sees amazing things and captures them for posterity and who dances like a god and kisses like a dream. Your guy, Jacob, is the geeky science nerd who looks like a….well, a demi-god maybe, and dances somewhat OK. Oh, Justin, did you see us when we waltzed? It's the first time in my life that I've been grateful for those dance lessons my mother forced on me when I was in junior high. Did they pay off or what? And the kiss – the best New Years midnight make-out session I've ever had! It. Was. Amazing!"

"Yeah, amazing…You really in love, Daph?"

"Sure feels like it, my lips still tingle, or it could be that I am completely fucking drunk. I've been in love before, but this is different. What do you think?"

"Don't know…Daph, I have a date on Friday." Justin said cautiously.

"A date – date?" Daphne shrieked, suddenly sitting up on the couch. "A real date, with dinner and conversation, not just fucking? With whom?"

"Jacob, of course. And yes, it's a real date, but with coffee and talking, no dinner and no fucking. I like him, Daph, really like him. He may not be the best dancer, but if his kissing is any indication, he has other virtues. Anyway, it's been so long since I've actually liked someone, I mean liked someone beyond just the "I want to fuck you and forget you" stage. The last time I felt that way was when I met Ethan."

"What about Brian?" She asked on a yawn.

"I haven't spoken to Brian in nine months, four days, five hours and about 35 minutes. I haven't seen him in about 30 days longer than that, give or take a few hours. Voice mails and texts don't count. That's long over…He has probably forgotten all about the kid that thought he was in love with him and followed him around like a masochistic puppy for almost five fucking years."

"Sorry, Jus, I didn't mean to bring him up."

"It's fine. Anyway, I think I pretty much got him out of my system. I mean I finally like someone and want to go on a real date….That's got to mean that I am moving on, right?"

"I think so, Justin. So, do you think I am in love or is it the booze, the dancing and the kissing?"

"Yeah, I think you are in love." Justin said sleepily "Daph, have you seen him?"

"Who, Andrew?"

"Brian."

"Yeah, I've seen him. Now he does look like a god, a complete one, not a demi-one. Emmett said that he sleeps mostly with blondes. I guess he hasn't forgotten you then." She mumbled.

"Guess not."

"You still love him?"

"I'll always love him, I just gotta forget him." He murmured and fell asleep. 

The next morning Justin woke up with a bad hangover, a crick in his neck and a stiff back from sleeping awkwardly on the floor, wedged between the couch and the coffee table. When he came out of the shower, Daphne was sitting up in the couch whimpering and cradling her head in her hands. When she heard him walk in, she moaned:

"Next time I decide to mix several glasses of champagne with hard liquor and eat nothing more than finger food, slap me or just shoot me. My head feels like it's about to roll off."

"I will, only if you promise to do the same for me." He said with a weak smile.

"I promise." Daphne said halfheartedly.

"First salvation," He got them a couple of bottles of water and shook out a bunch of aspirin for each of them. "Go take a shower, you'll feel somewhat better and I'll make us some coffee."

"You are the best. I'll be right back." 

Half an hour later they were sitting on the couch drinking coffee in silence, looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

"So," Daphne was the first to speak, "great party, huh?"

"Awesome," Justin agreed, "Though this hangover sucks."

"Did I tell you that I was in love with Andrew last night or did I dream that?"

"Oh, you did, you definitely did. You waxed poetic about his kissing. When's the wedding, Daph?" Justin laughed. She threw a cushion at him as hard as she could one handed.

"You are one to talk…I have a date, Daphne! A real date, Daphne! Oh, I like him, Daphne! Oh, what am I to do, Daphne!" She said in falsetto, pretending to dramatically swoon on the couch.

"Shut up, Daph! Seriously though, you in love?"

"God, no! I liked him, a lot, yesterday. That was a party, holiday mood and all that. Today I might think he's nothing special at all. Besides, who in the world falls in love in one night? No one I know."

"Yeah you do - me."

"You mean last night?"

"No, Daph, the night I met Brian…"

"Oh, right…Sorry."

"Right…Anyway, we should eat something and I am in no mood to cook. Let's go get some breakfast." 

The next few days flew by in a blur, with Justin spending as much time as possible with Daphne before she went back to Pittsburgh on Thursday. September's fiancé, John, who just proposed at midnight on New Years Eve, agreed to take Daphne to the airport. Before she left, she gave Justin a hard hug.

"I had a great time. I'll be back soon. Have fun on your date tomorrow and tell me all about it, OK? Jacob seems like a nice guy. You deserve one for a change. Love you."

"Love you too. Safe flight." 

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.**

**A/N: Please read and review!**


	31. First Date

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 31 – First Date  
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That Friday evening, Jacob met Justin at the gallery at closing time. On the way to the coffee shop Justin asked the question that's been on his mind for a couple of days.

"Jacob, do you think Arthur will have a problem with us going out? If things don't..."

Jacob laughed, "Trust me, my uncle is nothing short of ecstatic that we have a date. Regardless of whether or not we hit it off and go out again, he's happy that I asked you out at all. He considers our coffee date the height of his matchmaking career."

"You are kidding!"

"If only! My entire way-too interfering family is convinced that I am lonely and will end up alone for the rest of my life just because I haven't had a serious boyfriend for a couple of years. Ever since I've moved back to New York, I've endured numerous matchmaking attempts from various members of my family, most of which were a disaster. They refuse to believe that I am perfectly capable of finding my own dates and insist on parading me around like a debutant."

"Wow! I don't know what to say to that actually. I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or to envy you." Justin responded with amusement.

"I give you permission to feel sorry, very sorry. I don't think they'll let it go until I've had a commitment ceremony and am happily married with a husband, a house, 2.5 kids and a dog."

"Don't you want those things?"

"Yeah, of course, but I hope to find that myself, on my own time, in my own way, without the interference of my family, well-meaning though they may be. Truth be told, when my uncle mentioned you in his emails I was a little apprehensive – it sounded just like another ill-conceived matchmaking attempt with an artistic type. I am glad I was wrong."

"I thought I was an artistic type," Justin laughed.

"You are, that's not exactly what I meant...It's just that..."

"Don't worry, I think I get what you mean – you don't think I am a flake," Justin interrupted. "Truth be told, when Arthur first mentioned you, I thought I was going to meet super-nerd and spend a couple of hours being bored to death. I am glad I was wrong too."

**********

When they got to the coffee shop, Jacob and Justin continued talking and their conversation flowed easily. Over several cups of coffee they talked about Rage, which naturally brought up Brian, Michael and some of the major events in Justin's past. Justin told Jacob about how the comic book came about, about the bashing and the bombing at Babylon, but whenever the subject touched on Brian, Justin was honest, but very brief. When Jacob asked about their relationship point blank, Justin said:

"Brian is...was...he was my everything for a few years. However, I wasn't his. You know those things you mentioned earlier – marriage, house, kids, dog – he doesn't believe in any of it, with anyone. I do. He doesn't believe in love or monogamy. I do. So, eventually something had to give. We broke up, I moved to New York, that was it."

"I'm sorry, sounds rough."

"It is what it is, or was. Anyway, enough about me." Justin said abruptly changing the subject, "Why physics? I mean how did you get into it?"

Jacob realized that at least for the time being Justin's past was a closed door and replied:

"When I was a little kid, I dreamed of being an astronaut, flying in a spaceship and going to the moon. That's all I thought and talked about. Then when I went to school and discovered math and science and it pretty much reinforced my wanting to be an astronaut and walking on the moon. Then in high school I took physics and astronomy and thought that I was limiting myself – I wanted to study the entire universe, not just the moon, but the stars, planets, galaxies, black holes, everything. The universe, its origins, it all fascinated me. Then I went to MIT and I discovered that there was a universe in something as small as an atom. So, eventually, I arrived here, theoretical physics. God, I **am** boring you senseless, aren't I?"

"What? No! If you start spouting equations, then my eyes will probably glaze over, I won't lie. But you haven't done that at all. I actually kind of understand what you are talking about in a more general sense. You talk about what you do, what you study with such passion! It makes me think of how I feel about painting. It reminds me of an ex of mine, Ethan Gold, a concert violinist, who spoke the same way about his music. What?" He asked at Jacobs' expression.

"You dated Ethan Gold?"

"For a couple of months. He was a cheater, so it didn't last long. Why, you know him?"

"No, I saw him in concert in Boston once and I have his CD."

"Small world. Anyway, tell me about CERN. What was it like?"

"Like a dream come true. No, really," he said at Justin's laugh, "I've dreamed of working there ever since I found out about the super-collider and about the research they do there. It was the best experience."

"So, what's next?"

"Well, spending a semester at CERN didn't delay my graduation as I originally thought it would. My research there counted towards the courses I was to take in the fall. So next semester I am teaching an undergrad physics course and working on my dissertation."

"How long will that take to write?"

"Hopefully, no longer than a year and a half. I've sort of been working on it for a while."

"Dr. Frost - it has a nice ring to it. If you went to MIT as an undergrad, why didn't you stay there for grad school? Isn't it like one of the best in the world?"

"Yeah, it is. But I was tired of Massachusetts. New York is home. I wanted to come back, so I did."

"I get that. I love living here, but as unexciting and boring as Pittsburgh can be, it'll always be a part of me, will always be home."

"Do you want to move back there?"

"To Pittsburgh? Maybe when I am old, decrepit and want to retire, but not anytime soon, no." Justin laughed.

"How often do you go back?"

"I haven't been back yet, seemed a bit too soon. So, what do you want to do after you get your doctorate?" Justin asked, changing the subject again, "Teach? Work for CERN?"

"Teach? Maybe eventually, in a decade or two I'd like to teach college. As for CERN, I'd love to work there again, but I would be happy anywhere just doing research. There are quite a few universities and institutes that do theoretical research in physics in the US and around the world for that matter. So, we'll see."

"I'd love to see you teach."

"Well, when the semester starts you can come see me in class, if you want. But on one condition – I'd like to see you paint."

"You can come to my studio or my apartment anytime."

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, except for characters that I've introduced. **

**A/N: Please read and review and a big THANK YOU to those who've read, reviewed and shared this story.**


	32. Jacob Frost

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 32 – Jacob Frost**

During the next year and a half Justin's world revolved around his art, his job at the gallery and Jacob. The boys approached this whole dating thing rather cautiously. They genuinely liked each other and thought that if dating didn't work out, at the very least they could end up being pretty good friends. Therefore, neither one wanted to jump into bed too quickly and spoil something good. They went out for almost three weeks before things turned physical to their mutual satisfaction. After their first night together, Jacob told Justin that he doesn't sleep around – ever. He said that when he's with someone, he's with that person exclusively or not at all. Jacob wanted to know if Justin was OK with that. Justin thought about it for all of a minute before deciding to give it a shot; and just like that he was in a serious, monogamous relationship.

On the surface, Justin and Jacob were as different as it was possible to be – in looks, in profession, in personality and temperament - but as they got to know each other, they discovered a myriad things that they had in common. They had a similar taste in music, in books, in movies, in art. They had similar political views, though they often had fun playing devils advocate and arguing different points. Jacob hated going to the gym as much as Justin, but he was addicted to running a few miles everyday and swimming at the university pool a couple of times a week. A few weeks into their relationship, Justin started running with Jacob, then joined him in the pool and was hooked on the new workout routine before he even realized it. They discovered a mutual love of food and cooking and made a point of making a complete mess of each others kitchens at least once a week trying to cook some sort of complicated foreign dish and then eating it in bed. They discovered that when they were both absorbed in their work, Justin with painting and Jacob with his dissertation, a cannon could blast off in the same room and they wouldn't notice. Yet, they liked feeling the others' presence nearby when they were working, so once in a while Jacob brought his computer to the art studio and wrote while Justin painted, and Justin occasionally brought his sketchpad to Jacob's place and they would work in companionable silence together.

To their mutual surprise and relief they found out that their differences only increased their interest in each other. Justin, a much more social animal than Jacob, introduced him to the local club scene. Jacob has been to a couple of clubs before, but he has never been to Red Square. Jacob, introduced Justin to his tight circle of friends from NYU and even a few from his high school days– most of whom were academics like Jacob. Surprisingly, Justin liked them a lot and fit in rather easily, despite the fact that half the time their more scientific discussions went above his head. However, he liked the energy and passion they had for their respective subjects, and Justin being Justin, found a way to relate to each and every one of them. They, in turn, thought that Jacob finally hit the jackpot in Justin as a boyfriend and welcomed him into their circle with open arms.

Jacob's family were even more welcoming than his friends. Jacob warned Justin that when his mother invited him to a "casual family dinner" it, in fact, was an impromptu family reunion designed specifically to check Justin out. Justin thought it was a joke, but when he met about three dozen various Frosts and Lorings that night, he realized that Jacob wasn't exaggerating. Throughout the evening most members of the family made a point to talk to Justin and welcome him to the family as if they had just gotten engaged. Justin got the distinct impression that they regarded him as the answer to all their prayers as far as the "problem of Jacob's single status" was concerned and now that Jacob had a boyfriend they didn't have to worry about him anymore. Justin didn't know what to think of it all, but Jacob reassured him that this was nothing new in his world and not to take the whole thing too seriously.

As well as everything was going, things weren't always perfect between Justin and Jacob all the time - there were plenty of things that each of them found annoying in the other. For instance, Jacob was a technophile, who had to be the first to check out the latest computer gadget out on the market, if not buy it outright. Justin thought that Jacob's interest was bordering on obsession and after enduring several boring hours in line in front of the Apple store, Justin categorically refused to go shopping with Jacob ever again. Jacob, on the other hand, barely tolerated Justin's smoking habit and greatly disliked his casual attitude towards and occasional use of recreational drugs when out clubbing. Justin never touched anything harder than pot or E and not every time he and Jacob went to Red Square. Still, Jacob found it deeply disturbing and it was one of the few points of serious disagreement between the two of them.

**********

Over the next few months, Justin and Jacob's life settled into a comfortable routine, they saw each other every morning to run or to go to the pool to swim. They went out a couple of times a week either for dinner, or a movie, or an art gallery opening. They went to museum exhibits, science lectures at NUY, shows at the planetarium, and, once, even a theoretical physics symposium that was open to the public. They went to a couple of shows on Broadway, to free concerts in Central Park and a couple of times a month they went to Red Square to dance.

Justin had another successful solo show at the Loring gallery in early March, entered an art competition sponsored by MoMa, which he won, and another one sponsored by the Getty Museum in California, where he placed 3rd – and Jacob was there for all of it, cheering Justin on. In return, Justin went with Jacob to a few University functions and visited him in class a few times, sketching his boyfriend in his full-on "nerd mode", as well as the faces of his students, who to Justin's amazement listened to him with rapt attention.

Being with Jacob was like floating along a lazy river in summertime – fun, calm, warm, easy and comfortable. For the first couple of months this relationship felt a bit strange to Justin and for the longest time he couldn't figure out why. When he finally told Daphne on one of her frequent visits to New York about his vague concerns that something was missing, she said:

"I know exactly what's missing – drama! You aren't worried or constantly jealous or being cheated on; you aren't being pushed and pulled like a yo-yo at someone else's selfish whim; you aren't being rejected. I mean with Ethan it was all teen romance and no substance. With Brian it was all drama all the time and heartbreak galore. Besides, he never thought of it as a serious relationship to begin with. With Jacob...Well, for the first time, you are being treated like an equal by someone who likes you a hell of a lot, maybe even loves you. I think you are happy, Justin, or slowly getting there. I mean, if you were bored or miserable with Jacob you would've broken up with him weeks ago or not even started this relationship with him at all. Am I right?"

"Yeah...yeah, I think you are. How the hell do you know all this, Daph?" Justin asked in surprise.

"Because I've had normal when it comes to relationships, you haven't. You might have had a ton more sex than me, but I am far more experienced when it comes to actual boyfriends. I've had the good, the bad and the ugly. I think what you are experiencing is your first real doze of the good and it's freaking you out. Do you love him?"

"Love him? I don't know, it's way too soon to tell. I have feelings for him, but I am not quite sure what they are yet."

Daphne was rather surprised by Justin's answer; after all, this was a guy that was usually very self-aware, self-confident and who just a few years ago fell head-over-heels in love at first sight with a guy 12 years his senior. It was very unlike Justin to be so unsure of himself. She hid her astonished and slightly worried expression and said: "In any case, Jus, my suggestion is to just enjoy it and don't worry so much. Be happy, 'cause no one deserves it more."

Justin took Daphne's advice and stopped worrying. He decided not to over-analyze everything to death and not to think about the future, but to take things day-by-day and enjoy being with someone who actually appreciated him for a change.

The untroubled waters of their relationship did encounter some turbulence in May when Daphne paid Justin an unexpected mid-week visit. Justin had the afternoon off from the gallery and Daphne found him painting at the studio. For the past year Daphne has been a first year student at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, which has been her dream since girlhood. Therefore, Daphne's reason for the trip and her news were nothing short of shocking when she finally spilled the beans.

"Back in February I applied for a transfer to NYU School of Medicine and a couple of days ago I got an acceptance letter. I start in the fall..."

"NYU Med School? Why? I thought the program you were in at Pitts is exactly what you wanted. You've only been talking about it since the 6th grade."

"Um...Andrew - he's the reason why." Daphne replied cautiously. Justin who continued painting, suddenly stopped at her words and accidentally dropped his paintbrush.

"Andrew? Andrew Loring?" Justin was utterly stupefied. "What the hell are you talking about, Daph?

"He came to Pittsburgh a week after the New Year's Eve party at the gallery. He didn't have an assignment at Nat Geo for a month, so he stayed with me...the entire month. To say that we hit it off would be an understatement. When he went on assignment again we talked on the phone and emailed every day, missed each other like crazy. He wanted to try the whole long-distance relationship thing, I agreed. In effect, we've been dating since New Years Eve. Anyway, I knew that we'd have a better shot at making a real go of it if I were in New York. I thought about it for all of five minutes and then applied to NYU. Turns out they have an incredible neuro program... So, I am moving to New York sometime this summer. Surprise?" Daphne finished with a note of uncertainty in her voice.

"You've been dating Andrew Loring for five months and you never fucking told me? I tell you everything and you've been keeping something this big for months? What the hell, Daph?" Justin was truly hurt at his best friend's deception.

"We've been sort of keeping it to ourselves, only my roommates know and that's only because we live together. No one else knows, not my parents, not the Liberty crowd – no one. Andrew hasn't told anyone either. It's hard to explain, this whole thing between us was so unexpected and sudden and...The whole long-distance thing – nothing was or is certain. We aren't even sure where it's going to go from here. I mean med school takes all of my time and he travels a lot for work, so its a long shot to begin with. We didn't mean to keep it from you or anyone deliberately, it just kinda worked out that way. Sorry, Justin, you are my best friend in the world, I didn't do this to hurt you."

"I know. I guess I forgive you, but you should've confided in me. Does Andrew know that you got accepted?"

"Yeah, I told him last night and he's over the moon." She smiled widely.

"So, are you going to live with him?"

"I hope not...it depends on you, actually."

"What the hell do you mean? You are changing your whole life for him, why don't you want to live with him?"

"It's way to soon, Jus. When you say that we've been dating for five months, that's only technically. In reality we've only spent maybe six weeks total in each others company, the rest was all phone calls, emails, texts. It's all very exciting and romantic...But, living together day to day, at least when he's in the city, is a whole different ballgame. We need to spend much more time together before doing anything as drastic as moving in. We need to take things slow, actually date for real, not just long-distance."

"OK, I get that. So, where do I come in?"

"I was hoping that when September moves out after the wedding I could take her room. Wanna be roommates again?"

"Hell, yes! I can't believe this is happening, this is great! Wait a minute, six weeks? That means that all those trips of yours out here over the last few months were to see Andrew and not little old me, huh?" Justin smirked, his good humor restored.

"I came to see both of you, I promise." Daphne answered with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Oh, man, I can't wait to tell Jacob. I can, can't I?" Justin said, pulling out his cell phone.

"Well, that's another reason I am here. Andy and I wanted to get together and tell our two favorite people about us. So, can the four of us go out tonight and celebrate?"

"Absolutely!" Justin replied and called Jacob immediately.

They made arrangements to meet Jacob and Andrew at McDean's Pub that evening and the rest of the afternoon Justin and Daphne walked around the city catching up on all the gossip from Pittsburgh and New York. When the two couples met at the pub and Jacob was appraised of the situation between Andrew and Daphne, he wasn't as surprised as Justin. He said he knew something was going on with his cousin and suspected a girlfriend, but he never realized it would be Daphne. He was happy and excited for both of them, but his expression completely changed as soon as he heard that Daphne planned to move in with Justin in June. The rest of the evening he was silent, broody and seemed upset. At the end of the night, Daphne went home with Andy and Justin finally asked Jacob the reason behind his sudden foul mood. Jacob was quiet for a few minutes, but finally replied:

"I thought we were a couple, Justin."

"We are. What's this about?"

"You made a pretty major decision and didn't even say anything to me about it."

"What decision?" Justin asked in confusion.

"Daphne, her moving in with you in June."

"It wasn't exactly a major decision, Jake. You knew I needed a roommate, this just makes it a hell of a lot simpler for me, for everyone actually. I am not sure why the fuck you are upset. I thought you liked Daphne?"

"I do, she's fantastic. I was just hoping we would talk about living together. I was hoping you would consider moving in with me in June." Jacob lived in a small two bedroom apartment in Little Italy that he inherited from a great aunt of his who was a minor star of the silent movie era and whose late husband made a bundle in the stock market.

"Living together – now that IS a major decision. September's wedding is in less than six weeks, Jake, and you are bringing this up just now?"

"Better late than never, right?" Jake tried to joke without much success.

"Not in this case. Jacob, don't you think we are moving a bit too fast? We haven't even been together for six months. Moving in...it's too soon, way too soon."

"How long did it take you to move in with Brian? A couple of weeks?"

"What? That was a completely different situation. Our relationship is different, none of this is the same... And how did you know about that, anyway?"

"I've seen photos from your "Ghosts, Devils and Angels" show. I know enough about art to recognize it was about one person. I asked uncle Art and he told me a little of what he knew. I talked to Daphne here and there, she told me what she knew...not to mention the stuff your family has said in passing. I've..."

"Why didn't you just ask me? Why did you have to go behind my back and ask other people about my ex?" Justin shouted angrily.

"Because you don't talk about him. You give me little tidbits and then you change the subject. You hoard your memories of him and your relationship like a miser hoards gold and you are afraid to part with any of it. I am not stupid, Justin! I know he was important to you and that you still feel something for him. You think I don't know that on the rare occasions when you have bad dreams you get up and sketch him in order to get back to sleep? I haven't been snooping through you stuff or anything, but I've seen the "off limits" Brian sketchbook the one time you carelessly left it around. You never show it to anyone, including me – your boyfriend."

"I'm sorry, Jake, I am. I didn't realize that I was "hoarding" anything when it comes to Brian. I'll tell you as much as you want. For honesty's sake, he's a big reason why I am hesitating to move in with you. I don't want to rush things. What we have is good, so let it stay good, the way it is...for now. OK?

"OK. It's not what I want, but I'll settle for what I can get for the moment. But you have to be honest with me, Justin, just like you are honest with everyone else or this relationship is never going to work."

"You are right, I promise to be more open with you in the future."

Justin and Jacob made up and Justin did answer Jacob's questions about Brian in as much detail as was comfortable for them both. The issue of moving in together was shelved for the time being, but it was far from resolved and popped up a few more times over the next year. However, Justin's response was always the same – it was too soon and he needed more time.

**********

September's wedding took place at the end of June at the estate of her fiancee's parent's in the Hamptons. Justin, Jacob, Daphne and Andrew were all in attendance and had a fantastic time. Daphne caught the bridal bouquet and the garter, launched by the slightly inebriated groom, flew in the opposite direction from where it was intended and landed on top of Justins' head, causing the entire wedding party to laugh uproariously. The foursome endured numerous jokes and good-natured ribbing about weddings and commitment ceremonies from September and other wedding guests for the rest of the night.

Later that night, Justin, exhausted from the wedding festivities was drifting off to sleep when Jacob shook him awake and said:

"You know, I've been thinking...I wouldn't mind if we were to get married someday, no matter when that happens – a month, a year or five years from now – because I...I am in love with you, Justin."

"Jake, you serious?" Justin was suddenly wide-awake and nervous.

"Yeah, I am."

"I think...Jacob, I think I love you too, but it's..." Justin hesitated, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his boyfriend, especially now.

"Too soon to talk about the future?" Jacob picked up his thought.

"Yeah, it's too soon." Justin sighed in relief.

"That's OK. You are worth the wait." Jacob replied and kissed him.

**********

September moved out two weeks before her wedding and by Independence Day Daphne had officially moved in and was Justin's roommate once more, not that he saw her very often. Her classes didn't start until the end of August and Andrew didn't have to leave for his next overseas assignment until October, so until then Daphne spent every moment she could with him. "So much for dating for real and taking things slow," Justin thought to himself, "She's practically living with him already." But as surprised as Justin was by Daphne's uncharacteristic impulsiveness where Andy Loring was concerned, he was nonetheless very happy for her.

After September's wedding and Daphne's move to New York, Justin and Jacob's life went back to normal and continued its languid pace. Justin had his third solo show that September, a year after his very first one, and it was even more successful than the last. Justin was now considered to be a household name in the New York art circles, and Jacob and he began to receive various social invitations where their picture was taken any time they made an appearance.

One day at the gallery, Arthur dropped the New York Post on Justin's desk open to a page full off photos from the recent Met Gala that Justin and Jacob attended together. Their picture was one of several that were captioned, mentioning Justin's name and the fact that he wore a Hugo Boss tuxedo. Justin was flabbergasted:

"How do they know it was a Hugo Boss and why the hell do they care?" Arthur laughed in response.

"Don't you know that when Page 6 starts caring about how to properly spell your name and who you wear to an event you've finally – how do you call it – arrived? You are officially a famous face, my boy!"

"Arthur, I don't really care about this tabloid bullshit. I just want to paint and make a living selling my art."

"Then what the hell are you doing wasting your time at the gallery, Justin? You are a success. Your talent has grown over the past year, it will continue to grow and develop, and so will your success and your career. You can continue working here for as long as you like, Justin. It sure as hell only helps me and the gallery itself. But I think you should leave the safety of the sales desk and focus on your art full-time. After the last show especially you can well afford it."

Justin said that he'll seriously think about quitting the gallery. When he told Jacob about the incident later that evening, Jacob went beet red in the face and said that he's already seen the magazine. Justin looked at Jacob's embarrassed face and asked what it was all about. Jacob opened his computer bag and pulled several copies of the familiar issue of the New York Post and handed them all to Justin.

"Jake, what the hell are you doing with six copies of this shit?"

"Ah, one of my students apparently reads Page 6 religiously and recognized both of us from the photo. So, of course, all the girls ran out, bought copies and insisted that I get your autograph."

"Oh, my God..." Justin started to laugh at Jacob's supreme embarrassment and laughed until tears ran down his face. "You aren't jealous, are you?" He managed to say in between bouts of giggles.

"Definitely not. Embarrassed - yes, dumbfounded – yes, but kinda flattered too. They asked for your autograph, mind you, not mine. I was told that even though I am "cute for a nerd", they see me all the time and my boyfriend is the "hot, famous one". By the way, they want to know when you'll pay a visit to class again."

"Um, never." Now it was Justin's turn to be embarrassed. "I'll sign these, but this one time only. This whole thing is weird and ridiculous. On a more serious subject, I've been thinking of leaving the gallery. I'll keep working until the holidays and then quit. What do you think?"

"I say it's about damn time, you've worked hard for this. Speaking of the holidays, where are we spending them? New York with my crazy family or do you want to go to Pittsburgh?"

"To spend them with my crazy family? Decisions, decisions...I'd rather stay here, truth be told, but I promised my mother I'd spend at least one holiday with her back home. Damn!" Justin sighed.

Jacob regarded him quietly for a few minutes then said "You don't want to go home. Why?"

"Doesn't feel like the right time. Feels like its too soon and..."

"And you might see your ex." Jacob interrupted.

"It's not really about Brian so much as everything else. I...It doesn't feel right, somehow, I don't know." Justin suddenly felt like he couldn't sit still and started to pace.

"Justin, I'd like to see where you grew up. I'd like to see your home. I'd like to meet your family and friends on their own turf, in their "natural habitat", as it were, instead of just when they come to New York for your shows. Take me to Pittsburgh, Justin, show me your past."

"OK. I'll arrange it."

**********

Over the next few days Justin talked to his mother and everyone else from the Liberty avenue crowd and found out that while Brian planned to spend Thanksgiving in Pittsburgh, he was definitely going to Canada to spend Christmas with Gus, Lindsay and Mel. Thus, Justin and Jacob spent Thanksgiving with the entire Frost and Loring clan and two days before Christmas they arrived in Pittsburgh.

To Justin being back in Pittsburgh was beyond surreal. He walked along the streets of his hometown as if through a mist and it felt especially strange showing Jacob around Liberty avenue. The first night they were there, Michael and Ben invited them over for dinner at their house and while Jacob enjoyed himself, Justin couldn't shake off a weird sense off unease. They had breakfast the next morning at Debbie and Carl's and met the entire gang at the Liberty Diner for lunch. Jacob was having fun listening to everyone regale him with various stories of Justin's "misspent youth". He didn't know that a number of those stories were abbreviated and the subject of Brian studiously avoided as much as possible. Christmas dinner itself went great – the entire company congregating at Jennifer's town house this year. After dinner Ted, Blake, Michael, Ben, Emmett and his brand new boyfriend, whose name Justin again didn't quite catch, dragged Justin and Jacob to Woody's and then to Babylon for old time's sake.

As Justin looked around Liberty avenue, Woody's and later Babylon, everything was the same and, yet, it wasn't. It's as if something was missing, as if this part of Pittsburgh was a living organism that was missing it's heart. The longer Justin stayed there, the more memories kept coming to the surface and assaulting his already overloaded senses. He stood it as long as he could, but after about half an hour at Babylon, he could stand it no more and in desperation ran out onto the street. Jacob attempted to follow him, but was suddenly stopped by Ben who said that Michael knew what was wrong and to let him take care of it. Michael found Justin standing across the street from the familiar lamp post where he first saw Brian.

"Justin, are you OK?"

"Sometimes I wish I never met him, but five minutes later I thank God that I did. Because I would be different and so would be my life, if I've never met Brian Kinney. I shouldn't have come to Pittsburgh this time, it was way too soon. This whole trip feels like an out of body experience, like I am watching myself from behind a veil. I need to snap out of it and I don't know how." He stood there silent for a few minutes, remembering that night, then suddenly turned to Michael and said: "Michael, I need to borrow your car."

"No, Justin. It's not a good idea. He isn't there anyway." Michael shook his head.

"That's why I need to do it. I need to borrow your car, Michael."

"OK. Take it. I still have the keys and he hasn't changed the alarm combination."

"Thanks, Michael. Give me an hour, OK?"

Justin drove to Brian's loft. He parked across the street, walked into the building and climbed the stairs, but when he reached the familiar metal door he stopped. Suddenly, he thought of Jacob who was waiting for him at Babylon and who didn't deserve Justin's angst about the past. Justin put his open palm on the metal door, held it there for a minute and then walked out without a backward glance.

Justin endured one more day in Pittsburgh and then insisted that they return to New York earlier than planned. Jacob didn't argue and once back in the City, he didn't mention or discuss their Pittsburgh trip to Justin's immense relief.

The next few months flew by in a blur of sudden activity and somewhat unexpected stress, with only the New Year's Eve party at the gallery and their one year anniversary a few weeks later being bright spots of relative calm. Even though Justin no longer worked at the gallery, he seemed to be busier than usual – he had another show scheduled for April, he started illustrating a new issue of Rage based on some ideas Michael and he came up with over Christmas, and a well known New York law firm commissioned several paintings for their brand new offices downtown. Jacob was even busier working at a feverish pace trying to finish his dissertation and preparing for it's defense. He became so stressed that he was almost impossible to be around. Justin gave him all the support, attention and all the space that he needed, depending on what was required at any given moment.

All too soon it was June – Justin finished the latest issue of Rage and delivered the commissioned paintings; Jacob successfully defended his dissertation and then received his PhD. Justin was, of course, among those at the hooding ceremony, accompanied by Daphne, Andrew and Jennifer, who flew to New York for the occasion.

Suddenly, the stress and the busy frenzy of the last few months fell away and Justin and Jacob's life returned to the calm, even pace of the previous summer.

**********

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything (except the characters I introduced) and everything belongs to CowLip and Showtime. **

**A/N: I know this was a super long chapter, but what can you do – it sort of poured out of me. Please read and review. A huge thanks to all who've read and reviewed already – I appreciate it greatly!**


	33. Are You In Love With Me

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 33 – Are You In Love With Me?**

**July 2007...**

When Justin got home from a marathon painting session at the studio one evening he found Jacob sitting on the couch in a dark apartment. The only source of light was coming from the half-closed door to his bedroom. It seemed that Daphne was spending the night with Andrew again. Justin gave him a lingering kiss on the lips and lay down on the couch with his head in Jacob's lap.

"Good evening, Dr. Frost, what are you doing sitting in the dark?" Justin asked looking up at Jacob's face.

"Thinking about the future." The scene was suddenly eerily familiar to Justin and he became instantly concerned.

"What about the future?" he asked somewhat apprehensively and immediately sat up.

"Well, a lot of it depends on you actually. A couple of days ago I was offered a research position at NYU..."

"What? That's amazing, why didn't you tell me?" Justin smiling widely gave Jacob a crushing hug, but when he tried to kiss him again, Jacob stopped him.

"There's something else, let me finish."

"OK. This sounds serious," Justin got up and turned on the living room light, "I thought you'd be happy about the research gig. Isn't that what you were hoping for?"

"Yes, except I got this today." Jacob handed him a piece of paper from the coffee table – it was an offer letter from CERN, offering Jacob a spot on their research team.

"Oh my God, Jake, congratulations!"

"Thanks." Jacob replied without much enthusiasm.

"You don't look very happy about any of this. What's wrong? Trouble deciding between the two?"

"Justin what would you do if I were to decide to go to Switzerland? Would you go with me? Better yet, would you **want** to go with me?" Justin thought for a few minutes then said:

"Well, I can paint anywhere. As long as things can be arranged with the gallery, I don't see why I wouldn't go."

"I asked if you would want to go."

"Why wouldn't I want to go?" Justin asked in confusion. He sensed that Jacob wasn't telling him everything, that there was a lot more going on. "Jacob, you better tell me what you are driving at."

"OK. Cards on the table time." Jacob suddenly stood up and started pacing he floor. Then he abruptly stopped right in front of Justin, who was sitting back on the couch, radiating tention out of every pore. Jacob look at Justin and said quietly, but with conviction: "Justin, I'm in love with you."

"I know, I love you too. I don't understand..."

"No, Justin, I am **in love **with you, there's a world of difference!" Jacob cried in frustration, started pacing again and continued talking, "You are the first person I think of when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. Yours is the first face I look for in a crowd; yours is the first opinion I seek when I see, hear, read, learn anything new. I think about you all the time, all the time, do you understand? Remember the time when I first told you I loved you and that I wanted to marry you? Better yet, remember our first date when we talked about marriage, house, dogs, kids? Well, I want all those things with you. And I want them now - no hesitation, no thinking twice, no waiting. I can see us together ten, twenty, thirty years down the line, Justin. But, I am very much afraid you do not want those things with me and that you don't feel quite the same way I feel about you."

Justin was at a loss for words. "Jacob, I...I don't know what to say..."

"Justin, you are one of the most honest people I've ever met. You are honest to a fault, sometimes brutally so, sometimes to an unnecessary degree. Please, please be that honest with me now, no matter the consequences. Are you in love with me?"

Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then looked straight in his boyfriend's eyes:

"Jacob, I love you, I do. You've made me happy, very happy in the last few months. But, when I think of you I think about "now", not "the future". I've never pictured or tried to imagine us together in ten or twenty years. The whole marriage thing, I do want all those things, you know that. We've talked about it. I just never thought about it in relation to the two of us. It doesn't mean that I never will or that I don't want those things with you. I just haven't thought that far ahead yet. We haven't been together all that long..."

"Yes we have, Justin." Jacob interrupted. "We've been together for a year and a half. Did you imagine marriage and spending decades together when you were with Brian?"

"Jacob, that's irrelevant.."

"No, it isn't! It is very relevant. Please be honest, Justin."

"Yes, I did think about those things with Brian, but they were silly daydreams. I knew that it was never going to happen with him. He was never going to give me any of it, no matter how much I wished it. Why are we talking about this? What Brian and I had, it's over. It's been over for a long time."

"It may be over, Justin, but you are not over him. I don't know if you ever will be completely over him. And you never did answer my original question – are you in love with me?"

"I...Jacob, what you were describing, I've felt that only once..."

"For Brian."

"Yes, for Brian. But, it does **not** mean that I don't love you, that I am not happy with you, that I don't want to go to Switzerland with you or have a future with you. Yes we've been together for a year and a half, but I was with Brian for over four years. You've got to give me some time to process all this, to think about the future. If you want to marry me, I'll seriously think about it..."

"And if you say yes you'll be settling for me. I don't want to be someone's second choice, Justin, not even yours. I know you have feelings for me, I've never doubted it. But if or should I say when we break up you won't be heartbroken, not really, or not for long. I won't be the subject of your paintings and drawings as he is sometimes, still to this day. I deserve to be with someone who will say yes without hesitation when we talk about marriage, not that he'll seriously think about it."

"He shoots, he scores!" Justin muttered.

"Don't joke with me now, goddamn it! This is hard enough for me as it is. Bottom line - I want it all, Justin. All or nothing! What we have is great, it's been great and we have been happy, but I want more. What I want to have with you, you want to have with Brian. You are not over him. Deep down you know it and I know it. Admit it, Justin." Jacob said sadly.

"What do you want me to say, Jake?" Justin shouted angrily, "That I still love him? OK, I admit it. I met him when I was 17, Jacob! 17! He was my first love, my first in many ways and he was a huge part of my life for several years. A part of me will always love him and what's wrong with that? I'm certain you still have some feelings about your first, a lot of people do. But when it comes to a stable, normal relationship with an actual future I never had that with him, but I think I might have one with you. Any daydreams I might have had of Brian and I getting married, living in a country house and raising a family are long dead and buried. If I was fool enough to still entertain those dreams I would have never left him, I wouldn't have moved to New York and I certainly wouldn't consider moving across the ocean with you. You need to give me some time, Jacob."

"Time...After a year and a half, if you aren't in love with me you never will be. All or nothing, Justin! This may sound harsh, but I am not willing to spend several years, if not the rest of my life, playing the part of Justin Taylor to your Brian Kinney, hoping that you'll love me back the way I want to be loved."

"Wow! Direct hit, Jake." Justin felt like he was sucker punched.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you've treated me badly in any way. Not at all, on the contrary. But..."

Justin interrupted "I don't want to break up, Jacob. You are important to me."

"Neither do I because you are everything to me! But if I don't do this now, I'm afraid that both of us will end up settling for second best and I...actually both of us deserve better than that - we deserve something extraordinary. It hurts like hell now, but I think I'll survive. Somehow. If I wait for four years like you did with Brian and then still end up losing you, which I am sure I will, I don't think I'll be able to survive that."

"So we are breaking up." Justin stood in front of Jacob with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Yes, we are breaking up. God, how did that happen?" Jacob was shaking his head dejectedly. "I wasn't planning on breaking up. It's the last thing I wanted to do. All I wanted was to seriously talk to you about going to Switzerland with me and about the future, and then..."

"And then...God, sometimes honesty fucking sucks. Any regrets?"

"About us? Besides the obvious, none whatsoever. In fact, I wouldn't trade this year and a half with you for anything in the world, Justin."

"Me neither. So, what do we do now?" Justin asked.

"We kiss goodbye."

Jacob moved up his start date at CERN to the end of August and due to a lucky break with an expedited work visa he was on the plane to Geneva and out of Justin's life in two short weeks. Justin didn't see Dr. Jacob Frost again for close to a year.

**********

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, except for characters that I've introduced. **

**A/N: Here's my reason for introducing Jacob Frost into the mix. In my humble opinion, any relationship (be it straight or gay) only has a chance of truly working if it's between two equals or as close to equals as possible. Throughout the run of the original show, Brian and Justin weren't equal in any way – emotionally, professionally, financially, in experience etc. I thought that Justin deserved to have a relationship of equals outside of Brian (J&J are close to each other in age & maturity, both successful professionally, both independent financially, want the same things out of life and love, etc). I thought it was important to his character to experience an ADULT relationship that was good, even great for the most part, so that when he gets another chance with Brian, he'll be able to base his decision (whether or not to get back together) on actual life experience, rather than past memories or romantic dreams. He'll be more equipped not to repeat past mistakes. At least, that's what I was trying to get across and I hope that I, at least somewhat, succeeded. Please read and review and stay "tuned" to what happens next!**


	34. Chicago

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 34 – Chicago**

**Two years later. April 2009.**

**Brian...**

In mid April of 2009 Brian went to Chicago for a week for a barrage of meetings. The business trip served a dual purpose – new business for Kinnetik and getting the hell away from Theodore, who at tax time abandoned his usual calm demeanor and, at least according to Brian, turned into a raving lunatic. Therefore, he scheduled as many meetings into that week as possible, several of which were pitches with potential new clients and a couple of meeting with Leo Brown of Brown Athletics that dealt with a brand new ad campaign. The pitches went exceptionally well and Brian was confident that Kinnetik was about to add at least one of those accounts to its already impressive roster of clients.

Over the last few years Leo Brown and Brian had developed what might pass as a professional friendship. Brian respected Leo as a businessman and he was one of the few people that Brian actually grew to like as a person as well. Usually, Leo or his representatives came to Kinnetik offices in Pittsburgh, but since Brian was already in Chicago for the week, this time he came to them. After two productive meetings, he was surprised when Leo invited him to have dinner at home with his family. Brian usually declined these types of invitations, but for Leo he decided to make an exception.

The Browns lived in a lovely home overlooking the lake in a Chicago suburb of Lake Forest. As suburbs went, it was better than most. The town worked hard to keep a small-town feel and did it's best at preserving its unique architecture by not allowing the restaurant and retail chains to dominate the landscape. It wasn't to say that a Starbucks, McDonald's and all manner of other chains weren't just around the corner, but their facades blended in with the rest of the businesses in town to look more like the mom-and-pop shops of yesteryear and, thus, the town kept its quaint, quirky charm. To Brian the town seemed very much like Leo Brown himself and his athletics chain – old fashioned on the outside, but brimming with progressive ideas and open to change within.

Apparently, a weekly meal with the family was a tradition in the Brown household. Brian has met Leo's wife once before, but it was the first time he has met their daughter May and their son David, along with their respective spouses. David and his wife Meg were both lawyers, working for a big-time law firm in Chicago. They were a plain looking couple that sort of blended into their surroundings and seemed a very serious, conservative, almost unpleasant sort at first meeting. However, as the evening went on they visibly relaxed, joined the conversation and Brian realized that their initial reserve had more to do with their day at work and not necessarily his company.

Leo's daughter May and her husband Angelo Luciano were polar opposites to the other couple. May was a deputy director of a non-profit arts foundation in Chicago, while her husband taught Italian, his native language, at Northwestern. When the Luciano's arrived with their two kids an hour late, they blew away the quiet, settled atmosphere of the Browns' living room with a force of a gale storm. All four were vivacious, exuberant, energetic and talkative, taking over the conversation and monopolizing everyone's attention without seeming to realize it. When May was introduced to Brian, she enthusiastically pumped his hand and announced that she loved his commercials and wished her non-profit foundation could afford to use Kinnetik's services. Brian, momentarily stunned, cautiously said that he was sure they could come to some soft of agreement and he'll be glad to talk to her in her office at a more appropriate time. Brian, who usually never let a perfect business opportunity pass by, felt strangely uncomfortable trying to sell Kinnetik's services to Leo's daughter in his own living room. At his response, May laughed out loud and looking at Leo said:

"Oh, I like him, Daddy!" Turning back to Brian she continued "I'll be sure to contact you, Mr. Kinney, or Brian, may I call you Brian? Daddy's been raving about you and your firm for years. I do hope we'll work something out."

At this point, Leo took pity on Brian and tried to steer the conversation in another direction.

"So, May, what kept you this time? I can't wait for a yet another creative excuse." Leo asked, mischief in his eyes.

"I actually have a really good one this time, Daddy. I also have a bribe!" She replied, "I was at the Royce Gallery helping with the set up for the opening tomorrow and lost track of time. God, it's great to be working for an arts foundation sometimes, you get all these wonderful "in"'s, you get to meet so many amazing people. I had so much fun tonight and the art was simply astounding! I..."

"Cara," Angelo interrupted gently, "back to the point, please, mi amore. We'd all like to eat sometime tonight."

"Oh, sorry. Speaking of dinner, he should be arriving any minute now."

"Who, dear?" Mrs. Brown asked in surprise.

"Oh, the artist from the Royce Gallery who is having the art show tomorrow night. He has been here for a week and has no family or friends in Chicago. I met him tonight and he's wonderful, so I invited him for dinner. You always cook enough for an army, mom, so I knew it wouldn't be a problem..."

Brian noticed that the family were more resigned, rather than surprised, to have an uninvited guest unceremoniously foisted on them at the last minute. Leo's eyebrows rose into his hairline, his son David was shaking his head and his wife muttered something suspiciously like "not again", while Mrs. Brown just sighed. Brian took in the scene with amusement and then looked at Angelo, who just rolled his eyes and shrugged - apparently he was used to his wife's antics. May, however, didn't seem to notice any of it and, dauntless, continued her monologue:

"Just wait until you find out who it is - you won't believe me! You'll love him even more than you love his art! I've met quite a few contemporary artists, you know, and I've found that the more successful they are, the higher is the conceited asshole quotient, pardon the expression. But this one is a rare exception to the rule – he's very successful and simply lovely. Anyway, when I mentioned to him that you guys have seen and loved his work, he gave me four invites to the gallery opening! Oh, don't worry, David – you and Meg are excused. I know it's not your thing. Hence, the bribe, Daddy – Mother and you are invited to the Justin Taylor art show tomorrow _and_ you get to meet him tonight!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

Brian suddenly lost his grip on the snifter of Chivas Regal that he was nursing and the glass, thankfully mostly empty at this point, tumbled to the floor. He tried to apologize and to help Mrs. Brown, who instantly sprang to her feet in order to rescue the rug from any offending droplets of liquor, but he couldn't speak. He seemed to have frozen solid in place in an instant, except for his heart which was suddenly at his throat, beating a furious staccato. What seemed like a second later the doorbell rang and May with an excited "That must be him!" ran to the front door. About a minute later, he heard that unmistakable, but now slightly deeper voice say "May, I'm sorry to be late. It seems I missed a turn somewhere. Thank you for inviting me."

"Welcome! Here, let me take your jacket. And don't worry about it, we just got here ourselves." May replied, leading Justin towards the living room, "My parents are very excited to meet you and they've invited a guest tonight also, so you won't be the only new person here. Let me introduce you to everyone!"

During that entire exchange Brian was waging a mental war with his frozen body. "Get a grip, get a grip, get a fucking grip!" Brian thought, "You can handle it, you are Brian fucking Kinney!" That mantra seemed to have worked, for he felt marginally better with each passing second and the instant May and Justin appeared in the living room, he was in perfect control of himself again.

Since Brian was standing in the far corner of the living room, Justin didn't see him while May was introducing him to her husband, kids and the rest of the family; thus, Brian was able to observe him unnoticed for a few minutes. He has seen Justin's picture dozens, if not hundreds of times over the last four years in art magazines, that he told himself he subscribed solely for the reception area of Kinnetik; in Arts & Leisure sections of newspapers and even a few society pages, which Deb carefully cut out and preserved in a scrap book that she showed off to everyone; and, of course, any time he visited Gus in Toronto, where Mel and Lindsay seemed to have a brand new picture of Justin every month. Therefore, to Brian, Justin looked achingly familiar, yet immeasurably different. He looked the same in his casual manner of dress, though Brian recognized quality brands and fabrics. His hair was the same shade of blond, though obviously cut by a professional with some skill and flair, for it fell about his face in a casually windswept way that most people spend hours trying to achieve in front of a mirror. His eyes were the same incredible, piercing, brilliant blue that could command attention from across a crowded room. And his smile, his smile would forever remind Brian of sunshine, ever since he realized right before the bashing at prom why Debbie came up with that nickname. The differences, however, were startling as Brian realized that the myriad of photos that he has seen over the years did not do Justin any justice. The last time he saw him in person in March of '05 while sitting at a cafe across the street from the Dozier Gallery, Justin was 22 years old and still looked like a skinny teenager - blond, beautiful and with a great ass. Four years later, he was still blond and still possessed a great ass, but he no longer looked like a teen, but like a man – a drop-dead gorgeous one, with a still slender, but obviously fit, athletic physique. The last four years also chased away any remnants of childlike boyishness from his face, sharpening and defining his features into something infinitely more arresting than immature beauty – into raw, unbridled sex appeal.

**Justin...**

While Brian was hungrily drinking in Justin's every feature, Justin was being introduced to the rest of the family across the room. When he met David and his wife, who happened to be sitting closer to May than their parents, the name of Brown didn't ring any alarm bells at first. But when he turned towards Leo, he instantly recognized him and visibly blanched. He recovered pretty quickly and deciding that honesty was the best policy, went on the offensive first:

"Mr. Brown, how nice to see you again!" Justin said, shaking Leo Brown's hand, "When I was invited to dinner, I had no idea that you were going to be the host. You won't remember me, but we met once or twice several years ago, while I was an intern at..."

"Vangard in Pittsburgh! I knew there was something awfully familiar about you – I never forget a face. I just never realized that one of my wife's new favorite artists was the same young kid distributing copies at an ad agency just a few years ago. Congratulations on all your success!"

"Thank you, Mr. Brown!"

"Speaking of Vangard, you probably remember one of your former colleagues, Brian Kinney." Leo turned and gestured to a tall figure standing on the far side of the living room. "He owns his own ad agency now, Kinnetik, which, I am happy to say, does the advertizing for Brown Athletics with great success."

Justin was stunned and for a minute he couldn't seem to say a word – he stood with an outstretched hand, as if in the middle of a handshake, and couldn't take his eyes off of Brian slowly walking towards him from across the room. He hasn't seen Brian in over four years - even though he drew and painted his image constantly, he avoided seeing Brian's face anywhere else as much as he possibly could. Thus, in the last four years, he has seen very few pictures of his ex. Yet, he knew and remembered his face and body so intimately that the relatively few and minor changes in Brian's appearance were immediately apparent and jarring. He still walked with a predatory, almost leonine grace, but he seemed to have acquired a new capacity for stillness, which is why he went unnoticed by Justin for so long. His body, was as lean and as muscular as ever and clad in the latest fashion from the Armani casual line. However, he seemed somehow tougher - more of a welterweight MMA fighter, than a runner. His face was as young and as strikingly beautiful as before, except for a new maturity in his countenance, a few faint lines at the corners of his eyes and an unnaturally serious expression, instead of his usual sardonic smirk. Only his hair was exactly the same, lush and silky-looking, without a speck of gray. When Brian finally stopped in front of him and took his outstretched hand, Justin found his voice, but all he managed to say was:

"Hello, Brian..."

"Sunsh...Justin, it's been a long time." He replied and decisively shook his hand.

**Brian and Justin...**

Justin had wondered numerous times what it would be like to see and to touch Brian again. In his vague imaginings the air always got sucked out of the room in one fell swoop and the electricity he always felt when Brian touched him, even when it was done most casually, would visibly spark and sizzle between them. The reality was somewhat different. At first, Justin thought he felt absolutely nothing when Brian first touched his hand and rather than feeling relieved at this strange nothingness, it frightened him. But during the course of that prolonged 30 second handshake, he experienced what seemed like a hum that started in this fingertips and then slowly engulfed his body, blood vessel by blood vessel and muscle by muscle making him more aware of his entire being than he had been in a long time. As for the air, it was still there, but it seemed to be slowly and relentlessly heating up with each passing second, as if the living room became a giant preheating oven slowly scorching his very skin. He looked at Brian's face and was momentarily trapped by his steady gaze, mesmerized and unable to break eye contact.

Brian, on the other hand, was feeling quite the opposite. He too imagined this reunion, which, in his opinion, happened way too often for comfort. In these visions, Justin was usually looking at Brian with his 1000 watt smile and then swiftly launching himself into his arms for a tight, full-body embrace and a joyous kiss, just like he used to do before. The reality, again, was not at all the same. Justin did smile, but Brian saw that smile vanish from Justin's face the second he heard Brian's name. And those blue eyes that just a minute ago were warm and friendly when directed at Leo Brown and his family, seemed to be crystallizing into bits of cold ice with every step that he took towards Justin. There were no happy hugs or kisses – Justin seemed to be visibly solidifying into a statue and Brian felt the warmth being leeched out from his own body bit by bit, replaced by frigid emptiness. He looked into Justin's eyes, hoping to see a smidgen of gladness, but all he saw was shock and his hand was unusually cold to the touch.

All of this internal strife within Brian and Justin happened in a matter of a couple of minutes and neither the Browns nor the Lucianos seemed to notice that anything was amiss. To Justin and Brian, who seemed to be enveloped inside a soap bubble, these couple of minutes were an eternity. That fragile bubble suddenly burst when May exclaimed:

"You two know each other? That's wonderful!"

Brian recovered first. "Yes, Justin was an intern on my advertizing team at Vangard back in Pittsburgh, but it's been several years." he explained, forgetting that Leo has already said essentially the same thing minutes before.

"Brian was a mentor of yours, wasn't he?" Leo asked Justin.

"In more ways than one." Justin answered with a smirk, "It was an education to work with Mr. Kinney. He taught me lessons that I wouldn't have learned anywhere else, believe me."

At that thinly veiled sarcastic comment, Leo suddenly realized that there was more, a lot more going on between the two men than met the eye. No one else seemed to notice anything for the time being, however, not even May.

"Well, what a coincidence!" she said happily, "I am so glad that I invited you tonight, Justin. I absolutely love it when things work out so well – I am thrilled to have been able to reconnect the two of you."

At that moment, Mrs. Brown suggested that they should all sit down to dinner.

**********

There was only one word that could accurately describe that meal – surreal. May expertly directed the conversation between all the adults with a skill of an orchestra conductor. And while the conversation was rather lively around the dinner table, it was decidedly stilted – everyone talked to Brian and Justin and they responded to everyone else. However, they carefully avoided talking to each other directly, by some sort of unspoken agreement. They scarcely looked at each other, stealing quick glances in each others direction when they thought the other and no one else was looking,

Throughout the dinner May started picking up on the subtle tension rising between the two guests and unable to reign in her curious and nosy nature started digging. She asked about how they actually met, a subject that both Brian and Justin skirted. She asked Justin about his internship at Vangard and how he went from advertising to art. She asked Brian whether he was aware of Justin's artistic talents and his subsequent success. She asked whether he has been to any of Justin's shows, to which Justin responded with an emphatic "No". May didn't bat an eyelash at the forcefulness of his response - the dynamic between the two men fascinated her and she couldn't help but want to know more. So she stirred the pot by asking what Brian's plans were for the duration of his stay in Chicago.

"Well, I have a few other meetings scheduled over the next couple of days and then I am leaving."

"Heading back home to Pittsburgh?" May asked.

"Probably, I was thinking of going to Toronto to visit my son, Gus." Brian was shocked at his own honesty, but something about May just prompted an authentic response, even though he rarely discussed Gus with anyone outside close friends and family.

"Oh, you have a son. Do you have a picture?"

"Not on me, no. Sorry."

"Actually, I do..." Justin said without thinking and mentally kicked himself for unintentionally inviting all sorts of speculation and unwanted questions from the rest of the table. Seeing as it was too late to back out, he got out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and reluctantly explained "I am very good friends with Gus's mother. She is the one who convinced me to pursue art professionally." Justin got a small photo insert out of his wallet and handed it to May. Out of the ten wallet-sized pictures half were those of Gus and one was of Justin and Gus together. In the snapshot a laughing Gus was sitting on Justin's shoulders, his hands on Justin's cheeks, looking down on Justin's upturned, grinning face.

"Well, Brian, your son is just gorgeous. He's going to be a heart-breaker when he grows up. I think this one is my favorite." May said pointing towards the photo of Gus and Justin together. "Have you seen it Brian?"

"No, I haven't. When was it taken?" He asked Justin, it was the first question he directed towards his ex.

"A couple of years ago. Mel and Lindsey came to New York for Valentine's Day and stayed for a couple of days."

"Where was it taken?" Brian asked rather wistfully. The little of the background that could be seen in the small picture was rather vague, but gave the impression of an abundance of light and warmth and could have been mistaken for a summer shot, rather than one taken in the dead of winter.

"My studio." Justin said quietly. "Linds took an incredibly lucky shot with my camera phone."

May watched the exchange with rising curiosity. The chemistry and the tension between the two men was almost in the visible spectrum, regardless of their attempts to deny or hide it. If the pictures themselves, especially the one they were discussing, haven't done it then their involuntary reaction to Justin having them at all only confirmed May's suspicion that Justin and Brian's relationship was much more personal than either of them let on. Instantly, she decided to shove aside her promise of "non-interference" and to forget her husband's ban on "ill-advised" matchmaking and get these two to spend more time together while in Chicago. Bolstered by that decision, May said:

"Well, Brian, since you aren't going back for a couple of days, tomorrow would be a perfect opportunity for you to check out Justin's art opening at the gallery, since you've never been to one of his shows before. Daddy said that you enjoy modern art; he has seen a few impressive pieces hanging on the walls of your office. So, you will not be disappointed. Let me be the first to tell you that the work is absolutely amazing. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart, Justin, both as an art lover and a professional in the field. I am sure Justin can get you an invite, you being ex-colleagues and all. And if not, you can just take mine, since I was planning on being there as a representative of the foundation anyway. Actually, I think that's even better. I am so glad we got everything settled for tomorrow."

During her tirade no one had an opportunity to say a word – she just steamrolled over any attempted protests and then changed the subject, successfully maneuvering Brian into coming to Justin's show tomorrow night.

**********

After dinner, Brian excused himself in order to call a cab. May casually asked where he was staying and then immediately nixed the idea of a taxi.

"Justin, you are staying at the W, aren't you? Why don't you give Brian a ride to his hotel? The Omni isn't too far. And Brian, you won't have to wait forever for a cab to show up and save yourself a few bucks in the process. It's perfect!Well, I'm glad it's decided and I can't wait to see both of you at the gallery opening tomorrow." Just like with the art show, May got everyone to agree to what she wanted and no one, least of all Brian and Justin, who inwardly groaned at her suggestion of a ride, could find a reasonable, rational, not to mention polite excuse to refuse her "brilliant" suggestion.

Before they knew it, Brian and Justin were in Justin's rented Jeep and were driving to Chicago. Justin ignored the speed limit all the way, especially on I-94 which was traffic free at this time of night, and made it to Brian's hotel in record time. They didn't say a word to each other during the entire 40 minute ride. When Justin screeched in front of the entrance of the Omni Hotel, he remained silent – he just didn't know exactly what to say. Brian felt the same, so as soon as the Jeep stopped, he got out of the vehicle and with a casual wave towards Justin walked inside.

**Disclaimer: All things QAF belong to CowLip and Showtime. No infringement intended.**

**A/N: Finally, they meet again. I was trying to come up with an interesting way for the boys to see each other again. I didn't want it to be as prosaic as bumping into each other at, say, a coffee shop or on the street. Having them see each other for the first time at one of Justin's shows seemed a bit on the predictable side. So, I hope what I came up with was a little different and interesting to read (even though, I am sure you could see it all from a mile away). Thank you to all those who are reading and reviewing the story. It is much appreciated. See you next chapter!**


	35. Room 1701

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 35 – Room 1701**

It was midnight when Justin's cell phone rang. It was Brian.

"I'm in the lobby…"

"Room 1701..."

As soon as he hung up, Justin began having doubts. He paced the floor of his room mumbling to himself: "What the fuck am I doing? What am I doing? Being an idiot. He calls and I roll out the welcome mat, reverting to pattern….again…"

At the knock on the door Justin froze. He decided to tell Brian that he wasn't going back to the past and that he thought that this was all a stupid idea and a huge mistake. But when he opened the door and took one look at Brian, he stopped thinking.

"Come in. Drink?"

"No. I don't want a fucking drink. I want you, Sunshine, nothing else."

A heartbeat later there was no more thinking or talking - only feeling and seeking lips, rushing hands, ripping fabric, raining buttons and burning skin that wouldn't cool off. At first, there was no finesse - it was all desperation, mindless frenzy and speed. They couldn't kiss each other hard enough or touch fast enough or feel deep enough. Time seized to exist - they came at the same time and didn't know whether it happened in hours or minutes. They lay tangled on the floor, in tattered remnants of their clothing, breathing hard and unable to move or speak, like shipwreck survivors on the sand. They lay there still connected, waiting for the other one to move or say something, anything. After what seemed like forever, Brian raised his head and looked at Justin - he started to speak, but couldn't remember what he wanted to say. Instead he just kissed him on the lips and then kept on kissing him. That's when they remembered finesse and then spent the rest of the night rediscovering each other.

They woke up in bed; neither was sure when or how they made it there during the night. They looked at each other in the morning light, studying the other warily, and then they reached for each other again.

**********

Eventually Justin was the first to speak: "We can't continue fucking without saying anything."

"That wasn't fucking, Justin, it was anything but." Brian responded. "If anyone knows the difference it's me. I don't know about you, but after the first time last night, and even I don't know what to call that, I wasn't just fucking."

"Me neither." Justin mumbled under his breath.

"And you are right, we have to talk. So I will start talking." Brian sat up in bed and looking down at Justin's surprised face started to speak: "I've waited years to tell you that I love you. I was just too fucking scared and selfish and immature to admit it even to myself, let alone anyone else. Especially not to you. You know how I say "no apologies, no regrets"? Well, turns out I have plenty of both, at least where we are concerned. I am sorry that I ever hurt you or made you feel less, and for every time I disappointed you. I am sorry I didn't know how to love you, the way you deserved to be loved. As for regrets, I regret that I've wasted five years on pushing you away time and time again, when I should have been thanking my lucky stars that you were in my life and making you as happy as humanly possible. Bottom line is you are the love of my life and that will never change."

Justin couldn't breathe, let alone speak. He tried to say something, but all came out of his mouth was a rough gurgle. He tried to clear his throat, but it was no use. Justin abruptly got up, got a sample bottle of Jim Beam out of the mini-fridge and downed it in one swallow. His throat burned, his eyes started to water, but after a minor coughing fit he was finally able to speak.

"And when exactly did you come to this brilliant conclusion?" he said roughly.

"The night of the bombing at Babylon. I heard about it on the radio on the way to the airport. I couldn't reach you on your cell. When I got there and couldn't find you, I thought you were dead; then Jennifer told me you were in New York. I was so fucking happy you were safe. Then I watched what Ben was going through when Michael was in surgery and we didn't know if he would live or die. I realized that it was exactly, exactly how I felt after you were bashed, and I couldn't lie to myself anymore."

Justin started to laugh and it sounded a bit hysterical even to his own ears. "Please, Brian. I'm not a 17 year old kid anymore who'll believe your word is gospel."

"You don't believe me."

"Don't make me laugh, Brian. Why _should_ I believe you, the Brian Kinney who believes in fucking and not love? Give me one good reason why I should believe you. Even if I did believe you, how can you justify the last four years? You decided all of a sudden that you loved me and what? You let me move to New York alone? Without talking to me or saying anything to me; without a fight, without compromise? You cut me out of your life, you broke a promise to me for the first time since I've known you and after the biggest night of my life you send me a fucking text message? You let me go that easily, and moved on without a thought? That's not love Brian, that's complete indifference."

"I never moved on and I've thought about you every fucking day!" Brian sprang from the bed.

"And yet we haven't seen or spoken to each other in several years? Give me a break." Justin retorted angrily, throwing the empty sample bottle of Jim Beam in the direction of the trashcan. It bounced off the wall with a less-than satisfying smack.

"There are reasons for that, valid reasons. At least they were valid to me. Whether you'll agree with them or not, I want you to at least hear me out and let me explain."

"Please, please, don't. I can't go there again. I won't." Justin said and haphazardly started to pull on clothes.

"What about last night and this morning? What do you call that?"

"Insanity? Momentary lapse of reason? Old time's sake? Big fucking mistake? I don't know, so take your pick!" Justin shouted.

"It was not a fucking mistake!" Brian growled.

"Do you know how long it took me to get over you? Years! Years, Brian. I had someone who loved me, who wanted me, just me and no one else…"

"What, like Ethan?" Brian interrupted.

"No, not like Ethan…Jacob never cheated on me, nor I on him. We were together for a year and a half and we were exclusive with each other – completely monogamous. He didn't want nor did he need to go out clubbing every fucking night to pick up tricks. When we went out together, we had fun together and we came home together. He didn't play games with me. He was in love with me, he wanted to marry me, to spend the rest of his life with me, have a family with me…but I ended up losing him because I wasn't fucking over you! Well, I am over you now, goddamn it!"

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I don't believe you, Justin." Brian adamantly shook his head. "If last night is any indication, then I know you still feel something for me."

"Brian, our sex life was never the problem. It was the only place where we were completely in tune. Last night…You are...were my first. Like you said the very first time you fucked me is that I would always remember you; that you would always be there. Well, I guess that's true – you've always had some sort of a physical pull, like a hold over me and you probably always will. But I am never, never risking my heart or my sanity where you are concerned again. Brian, you are like…like...no, you _are _quicksand to me and I'll be damned if I get sucked in again!"

"Fine. You have every right to feel this way. You have every right not to take a risk again. I'll accept that, but I will not back away, not this time. I will not give up without a fight. It's high time _I_ took a risk where _my_ heart was concerned. And as corny or stupid, or unbelievable, or lesbionic, or even, hetero, as it may sound, but my heart is yours - completely. Finally I am man enough to admit it and say it to you. I will do everything in my power to make you believe it! I am not asking you for much. All I am asking for is a just a chance to explain everything."

"What does that entail exactly?"

"Come to Pittsburgh with me, there are a few things I need to show you."

"No. No way!" Justin exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Justin…"

"You are going to have to give me time to think. I can't think right now, I can't…"

"Then think! Take all the time you need. In the meantime, I'll take a shower."

"Sure…"

Justin's mind was reeling. To say that he was blown away was the understatement of the year. His thoughts were going in a thousand different directions and he couldn't focus on anything at all. He heard the toilet flush and then the shower came on and it finally struck him that Brian thought he'll make the decision right now. He walked into the bathroom angrily, wanting to tell Brian that he can't be manipulated anymore, but then he saw him and Justin's mouth went dry. Brian was standing under the spray, eyes closed and water cascading down his body, steam rising all around him and fogging up the glass walls of the shower. Brian raised his hands and for a split second Justin remembered his long-ago dream of Brian levitating and them fucking mid-air, then in an instant his drawing of Brian that he named "Angel", which was inspired by that dream, flashed through his mind. As if on queue, Brian opened his eyes, saw Justin standing there and whispered:

"I want you again. C'mere!"

Just like the night before when Justin opened his hotel room door, his mind went blank and he stopped thinking. Next thing Justin knew he was kissing Brian again under the hot shower spray, clothes and all, and at that moment nothing else in the world mattered.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, no infringement i****ntended.**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reading/reviewing the story and to those who have put alerts or shared it with others! There was some hope that Brian and Justin would have an explosive reunion – I tried my best to deliver. I am not sure if the above chapter could be considered "explosive", but I fervently hope that it was at least enjoyable. Please read and review and let me know what you think.**


	36. I Saw Him At The Browns'

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 36 – I Saw Him At The Browns'**

**Brian...**

Later that afternoon back in his room at the Omni, Brian kept thinking about Justin – the evens of the previous night and that morning replaying in his mind. He had two meetings with clients around lunch time and for he first time in his professional life Brian couldn't honestly remember what happened at either one. He was on autopilot the whole time, but he must have done alright, since the clients left the meetings satisfied. He decided to let Cynthia follow up with both parties and make discrete inquiries as to what the hell was said and agreed upon. At the moment none of that seemed to matter. Right now all Brian could think about was Justin's reaction to his confession and his refusal to give him a chance. Again, for the first time in his life he was completely uncertain where to go from here. He needed advice, or at the very least, a sympathetic ear. There was only one person that fit the bill – Lindsay.

"Hey, Linds..."

"Brian, Gus is next door at a friends..."

"That's OK. I'll talk to him tomorrow. I actually called to talk to you. Linds, listen, are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening. You sound...weird. What's wrong?"

"I saw him Lindsay. I saw him at the Browns'! I felt like I was punched in the gut when he walked into the room."

"Brian, you not making much sense. Whom did you see at Leo Browns'?"

"Justin. I saw Justin..."

"Oh. My. God!" she said dramatically.

"You can say that again. "

"What in the world was he doing in your clients house?"

"Long story involving Leo's daughter May, who is a force to be reckoned with and that's saying something coming from me. She reminds me of a young version of Deb, as scary as that is."

"Brian, I really don't care about May or anyone else for that matter right now. Focus, Brian, and tell me about Justin. You haven't seen him in four years – how did he look to you?"

"Incredible. He's never looked better...or more distant...cold, even..."

"Distant? Cold? Justin? I can't believe that. I've always imagined your reunion to be something out of a chick flick. You know, the two of you running into each others arms in slow motion..."

"Thanks for that disturbing image, Linds. You are a great help!" Brian quipped sarcastically.

"Sorry, couldn't help it." She replied with a laugh, "But, seriously though, what happened?"

"We spent the night together..."

"Please, Brian, tell me something I don't know! If the two of you _**didn't **_screw each others brains out at the very first opportunity then it would've been newsworthy."

"We weren't screwing!" He shouted vehemently, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Nevermind. I told him I loved him, but he didn't believe me. I asked him to come to Pittsburgh with me, he refused. He thinks that we are different people now...well, at least he is and he doesn't believe for a second that I've changed too. He thinks last night was a mistake. He couldn't get rid of me fast enough this morning, practically threw me out of his room. That's the first time that's ever happened to me. For the first time in my fucking life I have no idea what the fuck to do and it's an incredibly uncomfortable feeling. In fact, it fucking sucks!"

"Brian, did you actually call me for advice?" Lindsay asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I guess I did. Will wonders never cease, huh? Maybe I should do what he wants and just let him be."

"Don't be an idiot, Brian! You two are miserable without each other, just admit it! These last four years...well, I am not going to go there - what's done is done. Nothing any of us can do to change the past. You can, however, do something about the present and the future..." Suddenly, he was on speaker phone and Mel's irritated voice filled his ears.

"Brian, get your head out of your ass and for once take our advice. I can't believe I am saying this, but you deserve to be just as happy as anyone, and it's been obvious to me for quite some time that the only person who has ever, or will ever, make you even remotely happy is Justin. He fell for you when he was 17 and pursued you relentlessly for close to five years. Now it seems that it's your turn to pursue him, if you have the balls to do it. Again I can't believe I am saying this, but you are probably the smartest son of a bitch I've ever met, so you'll figure it out. Bottom line is the two of you need to get your shit together, get back together or move the fuck on, because we _**are all tired**_ of your respective soap operas! Stop pining after each other from afar, like romance novel heroines, and figure _**something**_ out and stop wasting everyone's time, including yours. Life is short, for God's sake! Grow the fuck up, Brian, and go after what and who makes you happy already!" Just as suddenly the speaker was off and he heard Lindsay's aggravated sigh.

"Sorry about that, Brian. Mel shouldn't have been quite that harsh with you, but I actually kind of agree with her. The question is, do you love him still? Do you want forever with him? Or rather, are you willing to promise him forever? Because he deserves nothing less."

"Yes." Brian, slightly shell-shocked by Mel and Lindsay's verbal onslaught, replied without thinking.

"Then fight for him! The only advice I'll give you is not to give up this time. Don't give up on him, on yourself and on each other."

"That's actually decent advice, Linds, thanks."

"I'll ignore the condescending tone and take the thanks in the spirit in which I'm sure it was intended. So, what's your plan of "attack"?"

"As it happens, I have an invite to Justin's show tonight at the gallery. If things go well, I might just have to send May some flowers or give her arts foundation a heavy discount on an ad campaign. And, for the record Lindsay, I have never "pined" in the past, nor will I ever do so in the future. Just because I have certain feelings for Justin and have somewhat missed him and occasionally thought of him over the last few years, doesn't mean I've been...now _**I**_ can't believe I am about to repeat that phrase..."acting like a romance novel heroine"! So, tell your darling husband Melanie to fucking fuck off!"

"Uhm...Sure, Brian, of course I will..." Lindsay replied in the most patronizing tone she could muster, while barely suppressing her laughter. "And, for the record Brian, I'd go with the flowers, if you really want to thank May. You may need to save your money for the wedding..." She finally gave in to her giggles and after saying "Good lu-uck!" in a sing-song voice, hung up.

**Justin...**

When they got out of the shower, Justin told Brian that he didn't have a lot of time and was needed at the gallery, so he ushered Brian out of his hotel room as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, him being in a hurry was a bold faced lie - Justin, in fact, had several hours to kill before he was due at the gallery. To make matters worse, for the first time since his art career took off, Justin had no interest whatsoever in the pre-show prep work or the opening itself. He technically did not need to be there, especially since the bulk of the set up was finished the evening before, but he usually enjoyed the process of getting a gallery ready for a new exhibit. This time he seriously considered letting them handle the remaining work themselves, but since he has already promised he'd be there, he felt that he couldn't flake out at the last minute. As for the gallery opening itself, he was always there on opening night for every single one of his previous art shows and he wasn't about to miss this one, regardless of what his feelings were about it at the moment.

As for his feelings, they were a mess. He was a mess...again. It seemed that one night in Brian's company negated all the growing up he did in the last four years since moving to New York - in a few short hours everything changed and he felt like a lovesick teenager all over again. As much as he tried not to think about the night before and about what Brian said to him in the morning, he couldn't help but dwell on everything that transpired since he stepped foot into Leo Brown's living room. The "lovesick teenage" part of him was elated at finally hearing those three little words come out of Brian Kinney's mouth, while his present self refused to believe them. He hasn't felt this confused and conflicted in years, and desperate for another perspective he called Daphne.

"Daph," Justin said without preamble "I saw him last night. I saw him at Leo Browns'."

"Jus, two things – who, what or where is a Leo Browns' and whom exactly did you see last night?" she asked in complete confusion.

"Leo Brown owns Brown Athletics, he's a client of Brian's. As to whom I saw last night, it was Brian. " Justin briefly recounted the story of how he ended up being invited into his home. "He's in Chicago on business and Leo invited him to dinner. I walk into he living room and there he was..."

"Oh, to be a fly on the wall during that momentous event! You haven't seen him in ages, how did he look?"

"Amazing. He looked so good I wanted to swallow him whole. God, I pretty much did..."

"Justin, you didn't!" Daphne cried out, outraged, "Please tell me you didn't fuck him in someone's house?"

"Come on, Daph, give me some credit!' He replied, completely insulted. "I am not 17 anymore, I do have a modicum of self-control. I am talking about later at the hotel...Shit! I wasn't going to tell you that..."

"Too late, Justin, way too late. Spill! What happened?"

"I ended up driving him to his hotel...don't ask why. Anyway, he called from the lobby of my hotel around midnight and came up to my room. I opened the door and after one look at him I basically turned into a throbbing gland with no reason or accountability. We pretty much fell on each other and I can't even explain to you what happened next. I...we...it was like a compulsion, beyond need. Feeling him, tasting him, touching him – it wasn't enough. It's like I had to absorb him, consume him, breathe him in. It was insane, _**I**_ was insane...God, we both were." Justin fell silent for a minute, thinking about that wild ride. Then he suddenly realized that Daphne was silent.

"Daph, are you still there? You are not saying anything."

"Uhm...still here...barely...your description was a little too good, Justin, that sounded kinda hot."

Justin laughed, "How long has Andrew been on assignment now?"

"Three long weeks, damn it! So, your sexy times are not exactly helping my deprived libido. One more week and I'll give my husband a night he'll never forget! Anyway, back to your story, what happened after? Did he do a Brian Kinney and leave?"

"No, he stayed the night. We made love, I mean we fucked about half a dozen times throughout the night and again in the morning. Then he told me he loved me and asked me to come to Pittsburgh with him."

"He _**what**_?" Daphne's shriek was loud enough to make Justin jump and momentarily drop his phone. "He told you he loved you? Brian Kinney actually said those words? Out loud?"

"Yeah, he did..." Justin proceeded to tell Daphne about that morning's conversation. He talked non-stop for about 15 minutes, Daphne listening quietly with her customary patience. "I don't know what to do, Daph. A part of me whats to drop everything, go to Pittsburgh with him, hear him out and believe every word he says. But the rational, "grown up" part of me thinks that none of that is real, that it would be a huge mistake. I've let him go, so..."

"Really? I've known you for far too long, Justin, so you can't fool me and you shouldn't fool yourself. You've never let him go, not completely. Yeah, you broke up with him before you moved to New York, but somehow, your relationship never got...I don't know...closure. That's why things with Jacob didn't work out, why you haven't had a serious relationship since. I am not going to tell you what to do, you'll need to figure it out for yourself and do what feels right to you. But maybe you _**need**_ to near him out, clear the air between the two of you once and for all."

"I don't know, Daph. Even if what he said is true and he does love me, I'm not the same person I was four years ago. He doesn't know me anymore. He, on the other hand..."

"He isn't the same either, Justin, trust me. The bombing at Babylon, you leaving, Lindsay moving Gus to Canada – all of that's had an effect on him. He's changed, believe me. You haven't seen him in four years, I have. You've been avoiding anything Brian related for a long time, so you can't really say that you know him anymore than he knows you. Listen, I've always liked Brian. When things were good between you, as rare as that was, he made you happier than anyone else in the world. You did the same for him. I would be ecstatic if you and Brian worked things out and got back together, but _**only**_ if it made you truly happy in the long run. You are my best friend in the entire world and I just want you to be as happy as I am with Andrew, whether it is with Brian or with someone else."

"Thanks, Daph, that means a lot to me. So, what do I do?"

"I wasn't going to give you advice, but what the hell...Don't be a Brian Kinney of old, Justin. Meaning, don't shut him out or push him away. However he has changed, one thing about him will always remain the same – Brian Kinney doesn't say what he doesn't mean. So, let him say what he needs to say to you and take it as truth. Whether or not you can accept it, accept him and whatever it is that he wants from you this time is an entirely different matter."

"You are too smart for your own good. What would I do without you, Daphne?"

"Wallow in self-pity and misery, friendless and alone?" She laughed, "I am just kidding. So, are you going to call him?"

"No need. He said he'd be at the gallery opening tonight. He's never been to any of my shows before, not since Pittsburgh. We'll see what happens then."

"Good luck and call me tomorrow, let me know what happens, OK? Love you."

"OK. Thanks, Daph. I love you. Bye!" Justin hung up feeling a lot better; he invariably did after talking to her. He still hasn't come to a decision about going to Pittsburgh with Brian, but he did decide to talk to him again and put whatever it was still between them to rest, once and for all.

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Showtime and CowLip.**

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay between posts. Changes at work prevented me from working on this for quite a while and as you can see, not exactly stellar work. I tried to edit it more, make it less dialogue heavy, but I pretty much gave up – if I don't post it now, I don't know when I will. All reviews, criticisms (especially the constructive kind), and opinions are very welcome indeed. Please read and review, and a huge thank you to those who are following my story.**


	37. Closure

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 37 – Closure**

**Brian & Justin...**

The opening at the Royce gallery was Justin's first important solo show outside of New York City. His art has been shown in galleries in other cities before over the last two years, in Los Angeles, Boston and Austin, Texas, of all places, but as part of much larger exhibitions that featured several artists. He didn't attend the two art shows in California where a few of his paintings were displayed and sold – he has had enough of L.A. to last him a lifetime after his previous experience in Hollywood. He did, however, go to the Boston and the Austin shows, just because he has always wanted to visit those cities. He liked Boston well enough, but he absolutely fell in love with Austin – it's surprisingly liberal atmosphere, the incredibly rich indie music and art scenes, it's nightlife, it's food and it's people, the majority of whom seemed to be around his own age. Justin decided that if not for the oppressive Texas heat, which was almost unbearable, and his surprisingly ordered life in New York, he'd move there in a heartbeat. All those shows were small enough that he didn't feel it necessary to invite any of his friends and family, even though they knew about them being held. This gallery opening in Chicago, however, was pretty major. Therefore, he was rather sad that for the first time none of his family or friends from either Pittsburgh, Toronto or New York could attend the event.

Justin was washing the dust off his hands in the bathroom of the Royce Gallery thirty minutes before the opening of the exhibit when in a moment of insecurity he suddenly wasn't sure how he was going to handle Brian being there and momentarily wished that someone familiar was with him there as a buffer. He placed his hands on the cold lip of the sink and leaned forward towards the mirror, scrutinizing his face. "You are not a little girl, nor are you a kid anymore," He said out loud to his reflection "This is not Liberty avenue or Kinnetik, or the loft...this is an art gallery - _**your**_ turf after all. Man up, Taylor, you can deal with Brian Kinney. Besides, he may not even show up." The little pep-talk helped bolster his spirits and his confidence level, and Justin walked out onto the gallery floor feeling a lot better, more like himself again.

The bustle of activity of the previous hour considerably subsided and everyone present was anxiously awaiting the opening of the gallery doors. Suddenly, out of nowhere, May appeared by his side and enthusiastically shook his hand.

"Hello, Justin. I am so excited about the show – I just know it'll be a huge success! I can pretty much guarantee that my parents will buy at least one of your paintings."

"Thank you, May. I'm very flattered and surprised that your parents like my work. Your mother especially, she seems more of the old-fashioned sort." His face flushed in embarrassment, "I didn't mean that in the way it sounded..."

May laughed in response "Oh, don't worry. Mother does give off the vague air of a conservative, stuck-up WASP, but she really isn't. What she is, is impossibly, frustratingly, maddeningly shy with everyone she first meets. It takes at least a couple of meetings with someone new for her to feel truly comfortable and act like her usual self. My brother is just like that. I don't know how in the world my parents managed to produce someone like me. When I was about 13 I was convinced that I was adopted, but alas, they really are my family." Justin couldn't help but laugh at May's candid description.

"You really thought you were adopted? You aren't joking?"

"No, I'm not. My parents had to actually show me my birth certificate and dig up copies of hospital records in order to convince me that I was, in fact, their daughter. What can I say, I was 13, emotional and overly melodramatic. "

The "overly melodramatic" comment sent Justin into a fresh bout of uncontrollable laughter. He's known May for less than 48 hours, and yet, he was absolutely convinced that there is no possible way this woman could have been any more dramatic or theatrical.

That's how Brian found them a few minutes later – May looking almost indulgently at Justin, telling him some funny story, while he was doubled over, red in the face and laughing. Brian hasn't seen Justin laugh like that in years and the image went straight to his heart.

"What's so funny?" he said, coming up to the pair. "Please tell me, 'cause I could do with a laugh."

"Hello, Brian!" May said, sending him a dazzling smile. "Glad you could make it. Tough day?"

"You could say that." Brian replied vaguely, looking at Justin who was suddenly upright, the laughter gone from his face and surprise clearly written all over it.

"Brian, what are you doing here? You aren't technically supposed to be here until after the doors open in 20 minutes."

"Well, Sunshine, I lied." He replied in a matter-of-fact way of his, looking straight into Justins' eyes. "I told the people judiciously guarding the back door that I am here with May, as a representative of her foundation. I was convincing enough that they let me in without so much as a "what for". Sorry, May," he added, still not taking his hazel eyes off of Justins' blue ones. "I hope you don't mind, but since we'll be working on a specially discounted ad campaign for your non-profit soon, I thought it only fair."

"Oh, my God!" she squealed and astonished Brian with a bone-crushing hug, breaking his eye contact with Justin. "My director will just die, but he won't be able to say no to this, the old dinosaur! The man has one original idea a year, yet he still runs an arts foundation. God, I can't wait until that unimaginative bastard retires!"

Brian and Justin laughed together at her unexpected tirade. Not wanting this moment to end, Brian continued: "Why, May! Do I detect a note of...oh, I don't know...bloodthirsty ill will towards one's boss?"

"Well," May, blushing profusely, tried to defend herself, "he is a lovely man and is a good boss, as bosses go, but the man is almost 80 years old! He's been at the helm of the foundation for close to thirty years, pretty much since its inception. It is a good thing in many ways, but, by God, he still sometimes does things the way they did them back in the 80's and it's extremely frustrating. He's been saying that he'll retire every year for the past five, but at the last minute he changes his mind. One of these days he'll actually do it and we'll be able to finally move into the 21st century."

"Knowing Brian and the kind of work Kinnetik does, your foundation will get a thoroughly modern, kick-ass campaign that will inspire your boss to either move with the times or retire and let the young people take lead."

"Justin, that was quite the testimony!" May exclaimed. Brian, utterly surprised, agreed "Yes, it was..."

Justin looked at their expectant faces, but decided not to elaborate. He just shrugged, "It's the truth. Anyway," eager to change the subject, he continued, "I am kind of surprised that you are here early, Brian."

Brian chuckled, "I am usually fashionably late, I know. But it's been one of those days, you know, where things haven't been going my way, so I thought I'd try to end it on a good note." He said meaningfully, looking straight at into Justin's eyes again. At that moment, May realized that she just became superfluous to this conversation and discreetly moved away; neither Justin nor Brian noticed.

"Plus," Brian continued, "its been awhile since I've seen your work. I was, well, I am extremely curious about your new pieces. I thought I'd come early, beat the crowds."

"Well, I don't know about crowds..." Justin replied, nervous again, all of a sudden. "You are welcome to take a look, browse around. You have about ten minutes before those "crowds" of yours descend."

"Uhm, Sunshine? They are not my fucking crowds, they are _**yours**_ and rightfully so. I hear you are quite the hot commodity in the art world. So, stop using air quotes and being a nervous drama queen. You deserve your success. So, try to enjoy it, before you give me indigestion, OK!" Justin looked at Brian and laughed.

"There's nothing like a Brian Kinney pep-talk – it's like a slap in the face and the best compliment rolled into one! I actually needed that, Brian, thank you. I don't know why, but I am always so fucking nervous at my gallery openings. It doesn't matter whether they are small or big...Actually, I was pretty calm before my very first show at Loring, but that's because the entire damn family was there. They kept me relatively sane..."

"That was the "Ghost" show, wasn't it?" Brian interrupted.

"Yes. Arthur insisted on titling it, so it became "Ghosts, Devils and Angels". Wait, how did you...I mean you rem...how...why...wait..." Justin stuttered.

"How did I know? You sent me an invitation. And, yes, I remember. As to how – there are many reasons for that, which I don't care to get into at the moment. As to why...I was there. Anyway, they are about to open the doors and I really want to see your work without interference for at least a couple of minutes. Later, Justin." Then, with a slight smirk, Brian sauntered to the other side of the room where May was animatedly talking to the owner. He felt that he finally scored a point with Justin, ever since he saw him at the Browns' again the night before.

"Later..." Justin replied absentmindedly, looking at Brian's retreating back in astonishment. He was riveted to that same spot on the gallery floor, unable to move or to think past Brian's latest revelation. His first thought was _"He said "later"! Oh. My. God. He said "later"!"._ His second thought was _"He was there?". _Then he was assaulted by a veritable storm of questions, all swirling around the same subject of Brian being at his first solo show_ "How? I know for a fact he wasn't there or was he? When? Why didn't I see him? Why didn't he talk to me? He was there? Why?"._

His inner monologue was interrupted when the gallery doors opened a few minutes later and the curator responsible for the show actually had to shake him "awake" out of his stupor. For the next hour, Justin was busy meeting and greeting guests, shaking a lot of hands and talking about his work. He was constantly aware of Brian being in the same space as him, but frustratingly, always on the other side of the room, his back turned towards him, looking at one of his paintings. He hasn't left yet, so Justin was pretty sure Brian wasn't bored. But his lack of actual response to his work was driving Justin slowly mad. _"I shouldn't care what he thinks! I haven't in three fucking years, why do I suddenly care now?"_ He silently berated himself. _"Maybe I'll ask May, I bet she'll find out what he thinks easy enough...Fuck me! What am I, in the third grade? What's next, I'll ask her to pass __him a note in study hall? God, I'm pathetic!" _Justin scowled at those thoughts, not realizing that his thunderous expression actually scared a couple of patrons who were on their way to talk to him. They decided to give him a wide berth and check out some paintings on the other side of the gallery. May, who saw the entire thing, was instantly at his side.

"Justin, are you OK? You seem upset, though you shouldn't be – your show is going very, very well."

"I'm fine, May, why do you ask?" Justin looked at her in surprise.

"For a moment there you looked angry enough to chew steel. You actually scared a couple of people to flee for their lives. OK, I exaggerate, but not by much." She laid her hand on his forearm and squeezed it in reassurance. "If you want to talk, I'm here for you, even though we don't know each other very well."

"I'm fine, May, really. I promise. I am just being unnecessarily nervous and overly melodramatic." He said with a smile, remembering her phrase from earlier in the evening. She laughed in response.

"Oh, by the way, my parents are here. They are the ones arriving late, for a change. They are talking to Brian at the moment, but they'd like to talk to you as well sometime tonight. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all. I promise I won't scare them away and talk to them with an actual smile on my face, like a normal human being."

"Good. Now, why don't we go get a drink? You and I both need a glass of...something. What I wouldn't give for a shot of Patron!" She sighed dreamily.

"Funny, tequila's my poison also, but I am pretty sure they only have wine." Justin replied, his mood inexplicably lifted. There was something about May, she was like a mood-altering drug in human form, you couldn't help but feel better in her presence. "Why in the world do you need a drink?" Justin asked curiously.

"Oh, I had one of our monthly tiffs with Angelo, tonight of all nights, so now he's sulking. He and I will be back to normal by tomorrow morning, if not by the end of the show tonight, don't you worry." She said, seeing concern on Justin's face. "In the meantime, wine will do in a pinch, since there's no tequila. Come on!" She took his hand and led him to the make-shift bar.

On the other side of the gallery, Brian was looking at Justin's work, completely mesmerized. He's known that Justin was talented for years; he's known it ever since he met him eight years ago; he was especially, painfully aware of it over the last four years that he's been following his career from afar. He knew that his talent would grow and develop; hell, he's been told that by Lindsay alone enough times over the years. However, knowing something in an abstract, nebulous way and witnessing it with his own eyes was completely different. It wasn't just a matter of an improved technique, or the complexity of the composition, or the range of the subject matter and style – only professional art critics, gallery owners, museum curators or, maybe, art historians would be able to get into the nitty-gritty of those details with any amount of authority.

Brian wasn't any of those people; he was simply an art lover who first discovered his interest in it at college through Lindsay. She needled him into taking a survey History of Art class with her their freshman year and he was hooked. He ended up taking a couple more courses just for the enjoyment of it and would have had a minor in Art History, if he didn't decide to get one in Business Administration instead. Until she met Mel, Lindsay dragged Brian to every art exhibition and gallery opening that they had in Pittsburgh and even though he complained out loud about having to endure yet another boring gallery event, he secretly loved every minute of it. Brian, having a discerning eye, knew what he liked and what he didn't when it came to art and had no compunction whatsoever about being confidently vocal with his opinions, regardless of whether or not they offended the artist. His comments at gallery events mortified Lindsay on numerous occasions, though she continued to take him with her nonetheless. It was a rare, very rare thing when a work of art rendered him speechless. He could count those times on both hands and more than half of them have all happened when he was looking at Justin's paintings and drawings, and most of them have happened in the last four years. Even though Brian couldn't describe in technical, art historical, or "industry" terms exactly how Justin's talent developed and how his artwork has evolved over the last four years, he could say with absolute certainty that it has become increasingly compelling and unforgettable with each new show. Brian was sure that there were plenty of people who didn't enjoy Justin's work. After all, no artist in the history of the world could claim universal approval. He was also sure, dead sure, that whatever their personal likes or dislikes, absolutely no one would be left cold or unaffected by Justin's work, especially when it came to this particular exhibit.

So there Brian was, studying Justin's art from painting to painting, and drawing to drawing in increasing fascination, his admiration growing with each new piece. His representational pieces, both drawn and painted, were sharp in their realism and unapologetically emotional, though they didn't go for the heartstrings – they went for the gut, like an unexpected punch in the solar plexus that left you breathless. His abstract work assaulted the eyes with its bold use of color and projected a sense of unstoppable energy and verve. To Brian, the way the works were arranged in the gallery space was like a roller-coaster ride for the senses, unbiddable and ungovernable, racing towards an unknown climax without rest until you were drowning in the drama of it all.

Brian let out a quiet laugh at these thoughts; until that moment he didn't realize it was within him to be this poetic about an art exhibit.

"God, what has become of me? I need a drink!" He muttered.

"I can get you a glass of wine, if you'd like. Unfortunately, that's all they are serving here." said May, who appeared at his side unnoticed.

"Thanks, but maybe later."

"So, what do you think?" she asked curiously.

"About the artwork? So many things that I have no words and that is a first for me." Brian replied, shaking his head. "I've known Justin for a long time, though we haven't been in contact in recent years. I knew he was talented, but the way he challenges himself, the way his work never stays constant just blows me away."

"My thoughts exactly. You should tell him that, you know? I'm sure he'll want to know what you think."

"I very much doubt that. Justin hasn't needed my opinion or approval in a long, long time." Brian replied with conviction.

"It has nothing to do with need and everything to do with want, Brian. As someone who owns a successful advertising agency, you should know that better than anyone. Oh, look, Justin's finally alone. You should go talk to him now before he is accosted by another eager fan." She patted him on the shoulder in a surprisingly motherly fashion and with a wink walked away.

Justin was standing alone, sipping a glass of a very decent Cab and looking at one of his paintings that was marked sold a few minutes ago. Unlike some artists who felt as attached to their works as if they were their own children, Justin had no problem parting with his artwork. When he got out whatever he was feeling at the time out of his system and onto paper or canvas, he felt a sense of release, like an emotional orgasm. After that, he couldn't really care less what happened to the work itself. Of course, he always hoped that it would be seen, liked and sold, he did want to make a living after all. But that desire for artistic recognition and success, however strong it was, has always been secondary, his constant need to create always came first. Whenever one of his pieces sold, he never had any regrets, with only one exception – he wished he never sold his "Angel" drawing of Brian. He tried to recreate it many times, but without much success – it never came out right, it was always missing something.

"This one's mine." Brian said proudly, pointing to the painting that Justin was staring at.

"You bought this? Why?" Justin couldn't hide his surprise.

"It's exquisite. It's intense. And it makes me think of what you said about me this morning – that I am your quicksand."

This particular painting was even more abstract than was usual for Justin's work. The entire composition was a swirling mass of multicolored dots that circled the canvas in an ever tightening spiral, converging together in the very center of the canvas into a tiny singularity of color that seemed to pulse with life.

"Only you would take that as a compliment..." Justin chuckled.

"Oh, I know you didn't mean it as such, but if you feel about me the way this painting makes me feel, than all is not lost." Brian answered seriously. Justin had no idea exactly what that meant. He was shocked yet again that Brian even mentioned the word "feelings", let alone referred to having them himself. He decided not ask for any explanations right this minute.

"Ah, in any case, thank you. I'm glad you liked it enough to buy it. What do you think of the rest?" As hard a he tried not to be interested in Brian's opinion, Justin knew that it was a loosing battle and he might as well bite the bullet and ask. He tightened his grip on his wine grass and braced himself for Brian's response.

"In a word – arresting. I can guarantee that no one who sees this art show will forget it anytime soon or leave here unaffected. I'm sure you have another success on your hands, Sunshine."

Justin was stunned. He expected Brian to berate him for wanting his opinion or, at the very least, make some sort of sarcastic comment, or give one of his signature backhanded compliments. He never expected a straightforward and what seemed like a completely honest answer. As the meaning of Brian's complement finally reached Justin's shocked brain, he stared at Brian with wide eyes, now alight with happiness as a brilliant smile broke across his face and a faint blush of pure pleasure stained his cheeks.

Brian's heart nearly stopped when he saw that smile. _"How long has it been since he looked at me that way? How long? Years? Years." _he thought. Just like after the bombing at Babylon, Brian decided right then and there that he will do anything, say anything and be anything to make Justin this happy again and again, and again. And he decided that he will do anything and everything in his power to get Justin back to where he belonged – with him, for as long as was humanly possible.

"Listen, about this morning..." they said in unison and nervously laughed. Brian waived his hand in invitation, encouraging Justin to speak first.

"About Pittsburgh. I appreciate the invitation, I do. And I agree that we need to talk, to put whatever it is between us to rest. I think you and I need some sort of closure, at least I know I do. So, I'd like to get together sometime and talk things out, but there's no way I can go to...Are you going to answer it?" Brian's phone has been buzzing in his pocket for a few minutes now and he's been ignoring it, again, to Justin's surprise. But at this point, it was getting down right irritating.

"Don't worry about it." Brian casually dismissed his phone. "I should've just turned the damn thing off. Actually, it's not a bad idea..." He got out his phone and frowned. Lindsey has called him five times and sent him a text _"to pick up the goddamn phone"_. "It's Linds, I think I have to take this...Gus..."

Justin, immediately concerned, exclaimed: "What the fuck are you waiting for? Call her! Here, let me take you to the office, you'll have some privacy." Justin lead Brian towards a short hallway in the back of the gallery and opened the door to a small business office on the side. "I hope everything's OK, Brian. I'll wait by your painting."

Ten minutes later a harassed looking Brian strode towards Justin.

"Is everything OK?" Justin asked anxiously.

"Gus broke his arm and got a slight concussion falling out of a tree he was climbing. He's basically fine, but the munchers are hysterical, which is not helping him in the slightest. He needs quiet and rest after a concussion, not two women carrying on as if he is on his deathbed. I wasn't supposed to leave Chicago until tomorrow night, but I need to be in Toronto pretty much now. There's a flight out of O'Hare in two hours, I hope to God I'll make it. Listen, Sunshine, are you listening?" Brian looked straight into Justin's eyes, his gaze intense.

"I'm glad Gus will be OK and yes, I am listening."

Brian extended his arm to Justin, clutching something in his hand. "Here, take them," he said, dropping a couple of keys into Justin's open palm.

"What are these?"

"The keys to the loft, obviously. Those are new, about a year ago one of the units in the building got broken into, so I changed the locks and the alarm code just in case. Anyway, that's irrelevant...As for closure, yeah, we need closure. But what we need even more than that is a new beginning. Think about Pittsburgh, Justin. When you decide to come, and I know it's "when" and not "if", just use the keys, _**your**_ keys, anytime – morning, noon or night. I'll be waiting."

Then he grabbed Justin by the neck and pulled him into a kiss, in full view of the gallery and its visitors, a kiss that made Justin's knees weak, his skin tingle and that he felt down to his toes. As abruptly as it began, the kiss ended. Brian raked his hands through Justin's blond hair and with a quiet "Later, Sunshine." he turned around and left.

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, except any characters that I introduced.**

**A/N: Yep, here's another one. Please read/review and enjoy! A huge thank you to all who follow my story.**


	38. Gus

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 38 – Gus **

Seeing Justin so unexpectedly was the highlight of Brian's trip to Chicago. Gus's injury, unfortunately, put a damper on any plans Brian might have had for the night after Justin's show. Thankfully, Gus turned out to be fine - it was a clean break and his concussion was mild enough not to even warrant a stay in hospital. In fact, by the time Brian arrived in Toronto, Gus was already at home and asleep in his bed. Brian realized that Lindsay and Melanie's complete meltdown had more to do with the fact that it was Gus's very first injury, than with its actual severity. Brian couldn't really blame them, especially after looking back on his own frantic flight out of Chicago. As for Gus, after he got some pain medication and a colorful cast on his arm he quickly calmed down. When he saw Brian by his bedside, who gently woke him up every two hours per doctor's orders, he decided that falling out of a tree wasn't such a bad thing and by the next morning he thought of the entire ordeal as an adventure.

The entire night that Brian was watching Gus he was too wired to sleep, his system overloaded with caffeine and adrenaline, and his mind preoccupied with unwelcome memories of his own fucked up childhood. He remembered getting a concussion after being beaned by a badly thrown baseball at little league practice when he was ten. After the trip to the hospital his father, drunk as always, screamed for hours about the hospital bill and missing his bowling tournament, breaking dishes and throwing kitchen furniture around. His mother, tight-lipped and frightened, just sent Brian to his room to sleep. Brian didn't remember being checked on or woken up every two hours by anyone; he did remember that after that day there was no more little league for him. After that little gem of a memory surfaced, Brian decided that Melanie and Lindsay could have a meltdown any time they fucking wanted – at least their overblown emotions came from a place of a deep and abiding love for their son, and a genuine concern for his well-being, not anger, selfishness or violence. He decided that as long as Mel and Linds made sure he was there to provide a bit of calm in a storm for Gus, if he ever got hurt again, they could get as emotional as their little hearts desired. 

* * *

><p>By the time Brian went to bed around six in the morning, when Mel insisted on taking over watching Gus, Brian has been awake for close to 48 hours - minus the two or three hours of sleep he managed to get in Justin's bed- and he was utterly exhausted. He woke up late in the afternoon, his stomach growling from hunger and his nose almost twitching from the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. He quickly showered and came downstairs.<p>

"Brian!"

"Brian!"

"Daddy!" Lindsay, Mel and Gus screamed all at once.

"Hey, Sonnyboy, how are you feeling?" He asked anxiously, closely studying Gus' face.

"I'm OK, Dad. My head doesn't hurt at all anymore and my arm just feels kinda numb. I can't believe you came! I thought you were on a business trip? That's what Mama said."

"I was, but I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were OK. Besides, I was thinking of coming for a visit soon anyway, so I came a bit earlier. I can stay until Tuesday this time, but I'll come back in a couple of weeks again, if you want. How does that sound?"

"Awesome! Maybe I should get my arm broken more often – you are here this weekend, Justin said he'll come next weekend and then you are coming back again. Sweet! Hey, Dad, you wanna play video games? I'll totally lose playing with one arm, but it'll be fun."

"Gus, don't you ever joke about breaking anything on your body ever again, OK? You nearly gave us a heart attack!" Lindsay exclaimed.

"Linds, give it a rest." Brian said quietly and gave her a reassuring nod. "I'm pretty sure Sonnyboy here has had enough drama to last him a while. I know it was frightening and upsetting for everyone, but he's OK, you are OK, everyone is OK. Put it behind you, Linds. He has. Right, Gus?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm OK, Mama, I promise. So, Dad, video games?" Before Brian could respond, Mel jumped in:

"Gus, honey, Brian just woke up and he's probably hungry." she said, ruffling his hair. "Go watch some TV in the living room, OK, hon?"

"Mo-om!" Gus whined.

"Don't you "mo-om" me, young man." Mel sighed, "Video games can wait just a little bit. Let Brian wake up, eat and you'll have his undivided attention very soon. Go, watch some TV. Better yet, maybe you should go up to your room and take a nap, rest..."

"Mom!" Gus cried in horror, "A nap? Now? OK, OK, I'll go watch TV." He started walking out of the room, grumbling under his breath, then suddenly turned around and asked with a mischievous grin, "Do you want me to turn it up really, really loud so that you can pretend I can't hear what you guys are talking about?"

"Gus!" All three adults shouted in unison.

Gus, shouted "Gotcha!" and ran out of the room, laughing uproariously.

"I love my son to death and I wouldn't change him for the world, but, he is not even nine years old and he can be so, so, so...incorrigible sometimes! God, I dread puberty – he'll be even worse!" Lindsay lamented. "Coffee, Brian? And I have left-over lasagna warming up for you in the oven."

"Thanks, Linds." Brian sighed in pleasure at the first sip of the dark, rich brew. "Well, Mel? No comments about me polluting the gene pool?" Brian and Mel's relationship considerably improved over the last few years, but it was by no means perfect. They communicated much better, but they still greatly enjoyed making fun of and purposely annoying each other at every opportunity.

"No kid is an angel 100% of the time. I do, of course, place the blame for the non-angelic side of his personality squarely on you, Brian...but, I agree with my wife – I wouldn't change a single thing about our son, including his father, as hard as it may be for me to admit. Angels or not, Gus and JR are the two most perfect kids in the entire world, in my opinion!"

"Aww, look who's had their fiber this morning!" Brian joked.

"Don't be a jerk, Brian, please? I think Mel's actually trying to be nice to you for a change." Lindsay begged.

"Oh, all right! I was kidding anyway. By the way, two questions: where's JR and when did you become Mama, Linds?"

"JR's at a play date, she'll be dropped off around 6 or so. As for "Mama"...Gus decided a couple of months ago that Mommy was for babies and little kids like JR, so he decided to call me Mama instead, but it comes and goes. I knew I wouldn't be "mommy" forever, what can you do – he's growing up."

The next few minutes were spent in silence. Mel and Lindsay were drinking tea and watching Brian with unabashed curiosity, while he wolfed down a piece of lasagna and got himself a second cup of coffee, doing his very best to ignore their pointed stares. Finally, he's had enough.

"OK, what? What the fuck are you staring at me for?" he asked, exasperated.

"Oh, cut the crap, Brian!" Mel said good naturedly, "You know full well we want to know what happened at Justin's show last night. What happened between you two? Spill!"

"What the fuck do you think happened? Not much. There wasn't any time for anything more than small talk. I ended up buying one of his paintings and then you guys called about Gus. That's it, not that its any of your business. By the way, did I hear Gus say that Justin's coming here next weekend?" Brian asked, in as non-nonchalant a manner as possible.

Lindsay laughed, "I was wondering how long it would take before you asked about that. Yeah, Justin called this morning to check on Gus. They talked for a few minutes..."

Mel interrupted, "And the manipulative shit - again, he gets that from you - told Justin that he wished he knew someone who could draw really well and would decorate his cast better than anyone at school has ever seen. So, Justin being Justin, promised him to come visit next weekend and turn his cast into a masterpiece..."

"Yeah, that sounds like Sunshine..." Brian mumbled.

"You sure you don't want to stay here until next weekend?" Lindsay asked, looking at him meaningfully.

"Wish I could, but too much is going on at Kinnetik at the moment. My staying here until Tuesday is already a stretch."

"What about Justin?" Lindsay asked in surprise.

"I gave him the keys to the loft. Told him to come when he's ready and that I'll be waiting."

"For God's sake, Brian!" Mel scoffed, "You are leaving the proverbial ball in his court again? Didn't I tell you it was your turn to be the pursuer?"

"Mel, thanks for the advice, but mind your own fucking business! On that note, I'm going to go play video games with my son!" As he walked out of the kitchen, Brian hated to admit it, but Mel's comment planted an unwanted seed of doubt in his mind. However, for the time being, he pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on spending some quality time with Gus. 

* * *

><p>Brian and Gus played a couple of games on the Wii for a while, until Gus got tired and asked if they could go for a walk instead.<p>

"A walk?" Brian was surprised, "I thought you were tired."

"Well, to get ice cream or something..." Gus replied evasively.

"Ice cream? All right, lead the way." But instead of going towards the ice cream shop a couple of blocks away, they ended up going to a local park and sitting on the bench overlooking a small man made pond. Brian was pretty certain that Gus had something on his mind that he didn't want to discuss in front of his moms. Brian sincerely hoped it wasn't time for the sex talk yet. Even though he was 100% sure he could handle it perfectly fine on his own, it didn't mean that he necessarily wanted to. So, he remained silent during their walk, letting Gus start the conversation when he was ready.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"What's on your mind, Sonnyboy?" Brian, who was mentally gearing himself up for a "birds and the bees" discussion, was completely unprepared for the question that came out of Gus's mouth.

"Did you and Justin get divorced? Is that why you never talk to each other or about each other?"

"Divorced? We weren't married." Brian was so shocked that he answered without thinking. "Ah, Gus, maybe you should talk to your moms about this."

"Come on, dad! Every time I ask my moms about anything, they tell me to wait until I get older. But I am not a little kid anymore, I am almost nine! And I know about stuff. I mean I have two moms. A girl in my class has two dads, they are married and everything. My friend Josh from next door got a mom and a dad. A couple of kids in my class have a whole bunch of parents because they all got divorced and married other people. My friend Paul's dad has a boyfriend, but Paul doesn't like him very much. He kinda wants them to break up. But I love Justin. I would never want you two to get divorced or break up, but you did, right? Come on, Dad, you gotta tell me."

Brian was stupefied. _"Is this really what kids talked about at recess or on the playground these days?"_, he thought, but he guessed that they did, otherwise Gus wouldn't have these questions. Brian wasn't sure how exactly to continue this conversation, so he stalled for time.

"Why do you think we were together to begin with?"

"Well, he paints you a lot. He has like a hundred, maybe a million pictures of you in his notebooks. I saw them when moms took me to New York. And he used to live with you a long time ago. I remember staying with you a couple of times. I kinda thought he was my dad when I was really little, but Mama told me that you were actually my dad." Gus said and then flushed in embarrassment.

"Why did you think that Justin was your dad, Gus?" Brian asked in a hollow voice. When Gus hesitated, Brian urged him to go on, "Come on, Gus. If you want me to be honest with you, you need to be honest with me. Don't worry, I won't be angry with you."

"Well, before he moved away and then we moved away, he came to see me all the time. He brought me toys and coloring books and crayons. We would play together and he would teach me to draw, and he read me stories and stuff. And I have like tons of pictures of the two of us from when I was little."

"I'm sorry, Gus. I guess I was a pretty shitty dad, huh?"

"Moms would kill me if they heard me say that, even though they say bad words all the time." Gus laughed. "And you weren't a bad dad, Dad. Mama told me you were really busy, so its OK. I mean I wasn't lonely or anything, I mean I have my moms and Justin, and Mike, and Ben, auntie Em, and uncle Ted, grandma Deb and a whole bunch of people. It got kinda lonely when we moved to Toronto, but you started to visit all the time and we talk on the phone and on the computer a lot, so it's cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Dad, totally cool. So? You never said. If you weren't married, then Justin was your boyfriend right?"

"Right." "_Persistent little shit"_, Brian thought.

"So, you broke up. Why?" Gus demanded.

"Now that is definitely something not for eight year old ears. Sorry, Sonnyboy, but you'll have to wait until you are older."

"That is so not fair, Dad! I am not a little kid anymore!" Gus shouted jumping off the bench.

"Yes, you are, Gus! And that is the end of the discussion."

"You don't have to tell me everything, everything, Dad, but can't you tell me something? No one tells me anything at all and it sucks! Everyone tells me to wait until I am older, but they won't tell me how old I am supposed to be to know this stuff. It's so unfair!" Gus looked like he was close to tears and Brian didn't know how to deal with this.

"OK, OK, I'll tell you "something", but once I tell you, you'll let this subject go and you won't bother anyone with this topic again - not your moms, not Justin and not me - you promise?"

"I promise!"

"There were many reasons why Justin and I broke up, many _grown up_ reasons. I'll tell you one of them – at the time, Justin wanted to get married and I didn't." Brian had no idea whether or not it was the right thing to do to tell Gus even this much, but he reasoned that Gus wouldn't stop asking and pestering everyone until he got some sort of answer. At least this answer, he hoped, would be the most honest, yet the least confusing for someone Gus's age.

"What do you mean "at the time"? Like a long time ago?"

"Yes, a long time ago."

"Why didn't you want to marry him? Didn't you love him?"

"Gus, you promised – no more questions. I'm disappointed in you."

"OK, Dad, I'm sorry!" Gus said hastily and then fell silent. Brian sighed in relief. _"Thank God, this conversation's over!"_ he thought.

About five minutes later, Gus looked at Brian and said "Dad, can I ask you about now?"

"What about now? You want to go get that ice cream?"

"No, Dad. Now-now, not a long time ago, so it's like a different, what was that word, topic, right?" At Brian's exasperated sigh, Gus just picked up the pace of his speech and blurted out the rest all in one breath, "So I can ask you about now and not break my promise, right? Do you love Justin now? Cause if you did, you could like marry him, you know?"

Brian growled in frustration, "Gus, why are you so damn interested in all this? Why?"

"Because you are lonely, Dad! I heard moms talking about it. They said the same thing about Justin. I wasn't supposed to hear, but I did. Not on purpose or anything, so don't be mad. Anyway, I don't want you to be lonely, I want you to be happy. Justin too. I mean I've got Mama and Mom, and JR, and you and Justin. But you guys are always alone. It's not fair! If you guys were together again like moms said, then you won't be all alone. Besides, it would be totally cool. I mean I love Justin – he's like another dad already or a really, really cool uncle or something. Except, that makes me think of uncle Ted. He's really nice, but kinda boring and Justin isn't boring at all. So it would be better if he were a dad. So, what do you think?"

Brian didn't know what to think – all he knew that he was truly humbled, moved and grateful that his kid loved him enough to worry about his happiness, even though for the first half of Gus's life he was more or less absent and made rare "uncredited cameo appearances". He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump of emotion that formed there, and then impulsively gave Gus a crushing hug.

"Listen, Sonnyboy, are you listening? You don't have to worry about me. Just because I am not married like your moms, doesn't mean that I am unhappy or lonely. Same goes for Justin. You are still a kid, you shouldn't be worrying about this shit...crap...stuff...whatever. I am fine, I promise. Now, will you please let this go and concentrate on surviving your childhood without anymore broken bones or concussions, OK?"

"OK," Gus laughed, "But you didn't answer my question, Dad, do you want to marry Justin?"

"God, you are persistent!"

"I know. Mom says it's your fault." Gus snickered.

"Mel would..." he mumbled and with a long-suffering sigh looked straight at Gus "OK. I will answer, but it is the last question, Gus. The. Very. Last. One. OK?" At Gus's nod, he continued. "To answer your question, sure I do, but it's not that simple."

"Why, are you afraid he doesn't want to marry you?"

"Gus, enough with the questions. This it's not something an eight-year-old can solve or should even be thinking about, so let it go! I mean it."

"OK, OK! Can we go get ice cream now?" Gus looked at Brian with such hopeful eyes and such an angelic smile that he couldn't refuse.

"Sure. Ice cream. Let's go." he said, but what he thought was _"God, I need a drink not fucking ice cream!". _Thankfully, it looked like Gus was satisfied with their conversation, because he didn't ask any further questions, mention their conversation or broached the subjects of marriage (Brian's or anyone else's), loneliness or happiness for the next three days. 

* * *

><p>Gus stayed home from school on Monday and Tuesday and spent every waking minute with his dad until it was time for Brian leave. Lindsay offered to drive him to the airport, but Brian decided to make it easier on everyone and take a cab. He bumped shoulders with Mel in a friendly farewell (they've graduated to hugging, but only on holidays and special occasions), gave Lindsay a hug and a kiss goodbye and picked up JR and twirled her around a couple of times to make her laugh in delight. Gus didn't want to say goodbye in the house, he insisted on going out to the cab. When the cab arrived, Brian gave his son a lingering hug and a kiss on top of his head.<p>

"I had a great time, Sonnyboy. I'll see you in a couple of weeks, OK? Be careful, try not to get hurt again, all right?"

"I promise. Hey, Dad, I had an idea about something. You make all sorts of commercials, right? To sell stuff."

"Right..." Brian was completely clueless as to where this was going.

"Moms said you are really, really good at your job, I asked. So, I thought maybe you could like make a commercial about you, you know, say how great you are. Then Justin will love you again and then you can get married! Anyway, that was my idea. Love you, gotta go. Bye!" And with a huge smile and a jaunty wave he ran towards the house, up the porch steps and disappeared inside.

Brian stayed rooted on the spot until the cabbie started honking impatiently. Somehow Gus managed to blindside him yet again and then ran back home before Brian had a chance to even come up with a response. Brian got into the cab shaking his head and laughed at his son's silly idea all the way to the airport. 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, no infringement intended. <strong>

**A/N: I based the 8 and a half year old Gus (in part) on a cousin of mine who at that age was a lovable holy terror. He wore out everyone around him with his inexhaustible supply of energy, his boundless enthusiasm, his pranks, his limitless curiosity about everything and everyone AND his constant, and unending questions (some of which were wildly inappropriate for his age...yes, he eavesdropped on adult conversations). My cousin is now all grown up, is extraordinarily smart (just as he was then), has a wicked, wicked sense of humor and is now studying in law school. I don't know whether or not I was successful in bringing Gus to life, so I would greatly appreciate an opinion or two. Please read and review! **

**A huge thanks to everyone who's been following this so far – you are awesome!**


	39. Brian Kinney, Version 2,0

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 39 – Brian Kinney, Version 2.0**

Brian couldn't get Gus's idea out of his mind. In anyone else Brian would have found such naivete disturbing, but Gus was still a kid and his child-like belief that his romantic problems with Justin could simply be solved with a commercial was rather endearing and made Brian grin the whole time he was at the airport waiting to board the plane. Then, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that if he thought of Gus's suggestion in terms of a campaign, a strategy, rather than an actual advert, then the idea had real merit. _"I always knew my kid was a genius!"_ he thought proudly.

He also realized that Mel was right – he did leave the ball in Justin's court yet again. His original idea of waiting for Justin to come to Pittsburgh when he was ready suddenly seemed like a poor one. Telling Justin he loved him clearly wasn't enough this time. It might have made a difference four years ago, but too much time has passed and too many things have happened. If he left everything to chance or solely to Justin's decision, he could be waiting alone in Pittsburgh for the rest of his natural life. He needed a better plan. When he took his seat on the plane he decided to seriously think on it and come up with a strategy. 

* * *

><p>If anyone knew how to conduct a successful ad campaign it was Brian. He could sell anything to anyone and has done so more times than he could count. In his opinion and experience almost any product in the world, at least 95% of them, could be sold by using the most common denominator – sex. Make it sexy, naughty, desirable, beautiful, pleasurable and it would fly off the shelves. In his case (him, Brian Kinney, being the product), however, sex was definitely a drawback. Just as Justin said to him at the W hotel, <em>their<em> sex life was never the problem and Brian wholeheartedly agreed with that. It was also true that, _his_, Brian's extracurricular sex life eventually did become a major issue and was one of the reasons why Justin left. So it was quite obvious to Brian that in order to "sell" himself to Justin, sex was the very last thing he would need to emphasize; the fact that they wanted each other to the point of madness was already a foregone conclusion. He was going to have to figure out a way to promote himself that was completely separate from his dick and, once again, Brian was uncertain of where to go from there.

For most of his adult life, actually ever since he hit puberty, his existence revolved around keeping his cock happy and to hell with anyone and everything else. Even his job, by his own admission, was all about sex. The more Brian thought of himself as a product, the more he realized that he truly wasn't sure what he could offer Justin that was as good and as sure as his sexual prowess. In the past, he offered Justin his loft, at least on a temporary basis. But, even then, as young as he was, Justin was resourceful enough to always find an alternative place to live every time their relationship took a nosedive. Now, Justin had an apartment and a life in New York and the loft in fucking Pittsburgh suddenly paled in comparison. Even Britin no longer seemed like a good enough lure. He had no idea whether a country manor with stables and a pool was still a part of Justin's dream.

In the past, Brian also provided Justin with some financial stability – no rent, PIFA tuition, art supplies etc. But all of that was paid back, with interest, years ago from Justin's Hollywood earnings. Now, Justin was a successful artist, financially independent and Brian's wealth would be one of the least important aspects to him, especially considering the fact that he was never interested in his money to begin with.

Brian couldn't even use his dreaded age as an advantage anymore. Yes, he will always be twelve years older than Justin, but 26 and 38 didn't seem like such a huge difference now, as opposed to 17 and 29 when they first met. Besides, Justin has always been more mature of the two of them in many ways. After living in the big bad Big Apple for four years on his own, conquering the art world, it was ridiculous to even entertain the possibility that Justin would ever need him for any sort of advice.

Kinnetik and Babylon wouldn't be of any particular interest to Justin either. The one time Brian offered Justin a job at his firm in order to help him, Justin flat out refused, wanting to make it on his own in the world. As for Babylon, Justin was getting tired of partying there every single night at the tender age of 22 and it was doubtful he'd be interested in it anymore now that he was older. Truth be told, Brian was getting tired of dealing with the club himself. He was holding on to it now for more or less nostalgic reasons and has been thinking of selling his remaining 50% interest in the club for a few months now.

When it came to relationships, Brian also came up short. His longest relationship was with Justin and he royally fucked that up and on numerous occasions, if he was honest with himself. Justin, on the other hand, has actually had a long-term relationship, the kind he said he wanted right before they broke up for the last time. _"That fucker Jacob Frost had the audacity to talk about marriage and family, the bastard!"_ he thought. He admitted to himself that he was jealous - irrationally, embarrassingly, insanely jealous of someone he has never met and who wasn't even in Justin's life anymore. But the fact that Jacob enjoyed Justin's undivided, exclusive attention for a year and a half and wanted a future with him, made Brian want to punch something.

So, the cold, hard truth was that Brian had no idea who he was when he took his legendary dick, his loft, his house, his company, his club and his money out of the equation. It was a sobering discovery in many ways and it was something Brian realized that he needed to figure out, if he were to offer Justin, in his opinion, an even remotely valid reason to start over.

If he were to think of himself in advertizing terms, which was after all his domain, he needed a much, much better product and a much, much better campaign. One rule of advertizing was that if your product sucks, improve it; if you can't improve it, then change it's image, highlight the positives, minimize the negatives or spin them in a positive way. Unlike in advertising, however, he'll need to make sure that there was truth and sincerity behind every word and action for the simple reason that Justin deserved it, not to mention the fact that he was smart enough to see through any type of bullshit from a mile away.

"_A better product – me, and a better plan. Where the hell do I start?"_ he thought. He decided to start with the product – "Brian Kinney, Version 2.0". His own cleverness amused him, but that amusement quickly faded as he started looking inward. Brian hated introspection. He spent most of his life not caring what other people thought of him outside the bedroom, the backroom or the baths, including himself. Looking within his carefully constructed protective walls, even though they've been slowly crumbling in the last few years, was going to be painful. Unfortunately, it was also necessary, otherwise he'll end up making the same mistakes all over again.

It took him less then five minutes to come up with a bunch of items in his "minus" column – promiscuous, shameless, selfish, arrogant, egotistical, rude, unappreciative, unreasonably jealous, yet has difficulty expressing his feelings. Hell, there were plenty of people who thought he was downright cold and had no feelings at all, apart from those of a sexual nature. There were those people that believed that he was uncaring and lacked compassion. Brian agreed with them, because except when it came to a very tight circle of his friends and family, he truly didn't give a rats ass about anyone else. Brian thought that his only redeeming quality was his honesty, but even that stemmed from the fact that he didn't care enough about other people's sensibilities in order to lie. More often than not he used that honesty as a club, a weapon, which was more for his own benefit than the intended recipient. Therefore, he hesitated to put honesty, his best quality, in the plus column. 

* * *

><p>After about 45 minutes of pretty intense self-examination, Brian was dismayed that he couldn't think of a single thing to put in the "plus" column and for about a minute the thought thoroughly depressed him. But a few moments later he thought <em>"Fuck this 'woe is me' bullshit! I'm Brian fucking Kinney and I can deal with anything, including my personality issues."<em> Mel told him to go after what he wanted. Lindsay told him to fight for it and not to give up this time. So, Brian decided to put aside the negative, not worry too much about the lack of the positive and pursue Justin anyway. Brian suddenly realized that he has always been self-confident. Sometimes it spilled over into arrogance and even ego, but any way you cut it, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his self-confidence was largely responsible for any success he's achieved in his life to date.

Another thing he thought of was that he has always been a man of action who went after what he wanted, even though in the past it was mostly dick. On second thought, it wasn't just dick - if he wasn't a man of action he wouldn't have been as good at his job, he wouldn't have gotten the Brown account for VanGard, he certainly wouldn't have started his own advertizing firm and made such a success of it in just a few short years. So, there they were, Brian thought with a smile, the first two items in the "plus" column of "Brian Kinney, version 2.0" - confidence and action. It wasn't much, but it was a heck of a start. 

* * *

><p>The plane landed in Pittsburgh without incident and 10 minutes early. As soon as he turned on his BlackBerry he got a call from Michael, who said that he was slightly delayed, but would be at the airport within half an hour. Since Brian gave Justin his keys to the loft, he had to arrange for a ride, since Mickey (as always) had a spare set. For once, Brian didn't mind the delay – he decided it would give him more time to think.<p>

He was in the baggage claim waiting for his suitcase and checking his email on the BlackBerry, when an unexpected email from Mel popped into his inbox.

To: .com

From:

Subject: Thanks!

Brian,

I know I hardly ever say it, if at all, so, in case I forgot to do so this time around – thank you! I realize that Linds and I completely overreacted when Gus broke his arm. Kids injure themselves all the time, it happens. In retrospect it's surprising that Gus, as active as he is, hasn't gotten a broken bone before now. But since it was his very first one, we just fell apart and you were a rock for the three of us this entire weekend. I hope to God that Gus won't break anything else horsing around like he does, but if it happens in the future, I promise that Linds and I won't be as hysterical.

One last thing – you are a good father. I mean that! Whatever your shortcomings in the past, you've more than made up for them, especially in the last four years. I thought you should know that.

Mel 

Brian re-read that email several times, hardly believing his eyes. Coming from Mel, this was huge. A few minutes later he laughed out loud, not caring how it looked to the people around him, because Mel unwittingly provided him the third item in his "plus" column of the "Brian Kinney, Version 2.0" product – a good father.

Well, his "product improvement" phase was slowly, but surely coming together. Now all he had to do was come up with a plan. 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, no infringement intended.<strong>

**A/N: A huge thanks to those who are following, reading, alerting, sharing and reviewing my story, **even thought it's moving at a soap-opera slow pace.** Please continue to do so! **


	40. Campaign, Part 1

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 40 – Campaign, Part 1 **

Mike happily picked up Brian at the airport, Ben and Hunter in tow. The Novotny-Bruckners decided to spend the evening on Liberty avenue, to get some dinner at the Liberty Diner and maybe catch a movie, since they were going to be taking Brian home anyway. They enthusiastically invited Brian along, but he insisted on going to the loft, claiming that an urgent project needed his immediate attention. When Mike first agreed to pick up Brian at the airport, he made no comment at all. Brian forgetting his keys was one of the reasons he always had a spare set to begin with, even though that hasn't happened in quite a few years. However, when Brian asked Mike to hand them over when they pulled up to his building, he was surprised.

"Why do you need my set? What the hell happened to yours? Did you lose them? I thought you just forgot them back at the loft or at Britin?" he asked with a slight whine in his voice.

"I gave them to Justin when I saw him in Chicago." Brian replied simply. Three utterly shocked faces, with identically open mouths, were staring back at Brian and then a minute later an onslaught of questions began.

"What? How? When?" came from Mike.

"Where?" came from Ben.

"Are you back together?" Came from Hunter, "Cause if you are, it's about fucking time!"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I ran into him accidentally, doesn't matter where. What matters is that I went to his gallery opening, told him that I want him back and I gave him the keys. So, no, we are not back together yet, but here's hoping. By the way, Hunter, why do you say it's about fucking time?"

"Oh, come on, Brian! It's been perfectly obvious to pretty much everyone, but the two of you, that you are absolutely ga-ga over each other. Always have been, still are and always will be. I just about laughed myself sick when my idiot fathers over there thought that Justin was going to marry Jacob, the vanilla scientist. I knew it was never gonna happen. Jacob's a great guy and all, and the two of them were nice together, but just so... vanilla...not even vanilla bean, you know, plain old vanilla..."

"That's good to know, Emeril, thanks!" Brian interrupted sarcastically, "I'll remember to be a bit more like cinnamon in the future and kick things up a notch."

"Listen, Brian. I hope it works out for the both of you, really." Ben said completely sincerely. It looked like he had something else to say, but he was interrupted by Mike who shocked Brian by saying,

"What can we do to help?" Three expectant faces now stared at Brian, thankfully with their mouths closed this time, waiting for instructions.

"Ah...Thanks, Mikey, guys, but I think I can handle it on my own..."

"Oh, man!" Hunter snickered, "You maybe a panther in the bedroom, as the rumors go, but you are like a helpless kitten in the relationship department. I mean, look what happened with Nathan..."

"Hunter, that's enough!" Ben barked, instantly silencing Hunter's laughter. "Brian, I am sure you are more than capable of handling everything yourself, but please remember that we are your friends and if you need our help at all we are here for you. Anytime, OK?"

"Yeah, Brian, we mean that." Mike agreed.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Brian said, shaking his head in amazement and with a wave went inside.

Brian remembered a time when Michael hated the very mention of Justin's name and was jealous of his relationship with Brian to an unhealthy degree. Now, it seemed, that Mikey has become Justin's champion. Brian couldn't help but know that they've become pretty close friends over the last four years, as much as distance allowed. They've continued to produce Rage with great success and have kept in touch on a regular basis outside their work on the comic book. Mike, who knew even less about art than anyone, in Brian's opinion, never missed an opportunity to go to New York to see one of Justin's shows, always coming back with dozens of photos and as many stories of Justin's life. To his credit, he tried to tone down the excitement for Brian's benefit, but Brian was perceptive enough to know that each time Mickey and Ben, and sometimes Hunter, went to New York to visit Justin they had a fantastic time. Brian didn't know what to think of Mike's offer of help – on the one hand it greatly amused him, on the other hand, it touched him. He remembered telling Justin a long time ago that when a man knows he needs help, he asks for it. So, he decided to keep Mike, Ben and Hunter's offer in the back of his mind until he needed it.

* * *

><p>Brian walked into the loft and looked around – everything was exactly the same as he left it before his trip to Chicago, except for a fresh batch of apples his housekeeper insisted on bringing every week. Yet, it all seemed different somehow, as if he was looking at it with new eyes. He suddenly remembered Disney's "Beauty and the Beast", which he watched with Gus when he was still in diapers, and the bizarre scene of cartoon furniture coming to life, dancing and singing about being lifted from a spell. Weirdly enough, every piece of furniture in his loft seemed to hold an air of expectation like in that demented Disney classic. If Brian didn't know better, he would have thought that he was high. But, alas, he realized that it wasn't his surroundings that were different – it was him. He was excited and nervous, and revved, after all, he was about to undertake a campaign of his lifetime.<p>

Brian booted his computer, got an apple from a fruit bowl on his kitchen counter and got down to business. He did his best brainstorming on his feet, so he paced the floor, throwing the apple in the air, thinking about his customer, Justin Taylor, and his product, himself – Brian Kinney...

Thinking, thinking, thinking...

Basic rule of advertising – you can't sell a product, if you don't know your target audience. So, who is Justin Taylor and what does he want? Brian knew what he wanted four years ago – an exclusive partner, preferably a husband, who would love him and wouldn't hesitate to tell him so; a home, preferably a country mansion with stables and a pool; and a family, meaning possible children. Today, Brian didn't know what Justin wanted. Justin was still young enough to change his mind a thousand times. His first order of business, Brian realized was to find out exactly what Justin wanted out of a relationship and out of life. Unfortunately, he didn't now how long that would take, so he decided to base his campaign on the past and adjust accordingly as needed.

Number one – he already told Justin that he loved him, which he didn't believe. He needed to make him believe it. He kept the rings which he impulsively bought after the bombing at Babylon and before he found out that Justin moved to New York. He tried to sell them, to pawn them, even to throw them away several times, but he never could, always returning the mahogany box back to the little drawer in his bedside table. If marriage was what Justin wanted, than Brain would marry him in a heartbeat. Fuck it, he would insist on it, just to make sure that Sunshine was truly his, once and for all. So, that took care of number one, at least partially.

Number two – a home. Regardless of what Justin wanted now, Brian decided to offer him Britin. If a country mansion was no longer a part of his dream, than Brian would happily sell it and they could figure out what kind of home they wanted together. He liked the house and so did his family and friends, but the only reason he bought it was because of Justin. He was attached to the idea them sharing it together, rather than to the house itself. So, if Justin no longer wanted it, then it was a simple matter of putting the house on the market. Suddenly, he realized that he felt the same about the loft. As much as he has always loved it, he was more than willing to part with it - it contained too many memories, the bad as well as the good. In the end, he didn't mind the idea of starting with a clean slate in a new place.

Two items down, one to go.

Number three – family. That one was the trickiest of all, in Brian's opinion. Even though Mel said that he was a good father, he wasn't entirely convinced he would be able to handle the responsibility of a child full time. In fact, the idea scared him shitless. But then he realized that he wouldn't be alone in this venture, not by a long shot, if he knew Justin, his friends and family at all. Suddenly, he imagined a tiny, blue-eyed, blond toddler running around the loft or around the grounds at Britin, laughing and waving paint-stained fingers (kids liked finger paints, didn't they?) and the idea took on an unexpected appeal. He was Brian fucking Kinney after all, he could handle a kid, especially Justin's kid. Well, that took care of number three.

If Justin still wanted those things, then Brian was more than willing to deliver, because he wanted those things too. He just needed to figure out a way to convince Sunshine that it was true and to give him a chance to prove it. He still wanted Justin to come to Pittsburgh – this is where they started, where they should put the past to rest and begin their future. But how?

Thinking, thinking, thinking...

Any ad professional worth their salt knows that the cornerstones of any successful ad campaign are visibility, memorability and creativity. The ad campaign has to be creative to be memorable, and it has to be everywhere to be kept fresh in the customer's mind. He kept his distance from Justin for four long years; well, that was about to change! He decided to go after Sunshine like he did after any other customer in any other ad campaign – print and visual media. In other words – emails, texts, the dreaded social networking sites (which Brian personally avoided like the plague, but which he ruthlessly exploited for Kinnetik), phone, skype and personal appearances. Basically, he was going to stalk Justin, like Justin had stalked him the first year of their unconventional relationship. He was going to be in Justin's face until he came to Pittsburgh and heard him out – that, he decided would be phase one.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Brian would need Michael's help sooner than expected. He thought that there was no better time to start his "campaign" than right then and there, but when he dialed Justin's number all he got was a busy signal and then the standard <em>"The number you have reached is no longer in service"<em> recording.

"Mikey, seems I need your help after all. Do you have Justin's new number?"

"Yeah, he got a new phone a while back. He either lost his old one or it was swiped from him one day on the subway. He couldn't get the same number again, so...You ready? 917-555..." Mike gave Brian the number and then continued "You want his address, email, Facebook handle?"

"Oh, right, I heard he bought a place. I guess I'm going to need the address. Why did he change his email?"

"His email's the same, he just has another one through the Loring Gallery, though that one is mostly for business. And he didn't move, he's living in the same apartment. His building went co-op about a year ago right around the time Daphne got married and moved out, so he bought the apartment."

"Wait, Daphne got married? To whom? How the hell did I miss this?"

"Ah, we told you Brian, you just didn't pay attention. She married Loring's son, Andrew. He's a photographer for the National Geographic." then he snickered, "She convinced Justin to be her best man, which basically means he was playing the part of the "maid of honor". God, we all enjoyed that one! We all thought that if you were there, you would have been the first to taunt him with 'always a bridesmaid, never a bride', so we did it for you and plenty!"

"You were at the wedding?" Brian asked in surprise.

"Well, the four of us – myself, Ben, Hunter and Emmett. We all got invited, but Ted and Blake couldn't go. You had some sort of hush-hush ad campaign going on and were practically living at the office along with all your staff for about a month, including Ted."

"Right, I remember. Anyway, I just needed his phone number. I already have the rest. Thanks, Mikey."

"Sure, Brian. Anytime."

* * *

><p>Brian dialed Justin's number right away, continuing to pace and throw the apple into the air one-handed. It rang a few times and Brian was about to hang up not wanting to leave a message, when, suddenly, the ringing stopped and a quiet voice said:<p>

"Justin Taylor."

"There you are, Sunshine."

"Brian?" Justin squeaked in surprise.

"Yeah. When I got home today I realized that I gave you the keys to the loft, but forgot about the alarm code combination. You are going to need it when you..."

"I am not coming to Pittsburgh, Brian." Justin forcefully cut him off. "At least not right now, I can't. I just got back from Chicago day before yesterday and I've been in the studio since. I have a number of commitments during the next three weeks that cannot be rescheduled. And I promised Gus I'd go visit him in Toronto this weekend."

"I know, he told me. And I am going back to visit him again the weekend after. Listen, regardless of when, you are still going to need the code, right? So get a pen..."

"Fine, fine, hang on." Justin wrote down the code and then sighed, "You just maneuvered me into agreeing to come to Pittsburgh, didn't you? Now it's a matter of when and not if."

Brian chuckled, "Well, I took a page out of May's book. That woman can teach a course on subtle manipulation, she'd probably make a fortune."

"May?" Justin laughed, "She's a Brown Athletics heiress, she already has a fortune. May works because she wants to, not because she has to. Besides, you were already good at that without May, let me tell you. But you are right, she's something. She so reminds me of a young..."

"Deb? Yeah, scary, isn't it? It's like looking 30 years into the past. We should never, under any circumstances introduce the two of them – it might be dangerous for us as well as the rest of the world." Brian joked. "Listen, Justin, are you listening?" He asked, suddenly urgent.

"Yes, Brian, I'm listening." he sighed in exasperation.

"About Pittsburgh. Why are you avoiding it? Is it because of me or us? Or is it because you've outgrown the place and just don't want to come back at all?"

Justin thought for a minute, then answered "I love the City, I'm glad I live here, but I'll never outgrow the Pitts -it's my home. I did come back, once. Jacob and I went a couple of years ago for Christmas. It was just too soon and I didn't handle it very well, truth be told. So, at first it was easier to stay away."

"And now?" Brian held his breath. For some reason the answer seemed very important.

"Now...I guess, staying away from Pittsburgh is a habit. The kind of habit that probably needs breaking one of these days. Maybe it's time, who knows."

Brian slowly exhaled, tension he didn't know he had, leaving his shoulders. "You know, Sunshine, I'm a bit of an expert on bad habits. The best way to break one is to go cold turkey. In this case, you should just pack all your shit and move back to the Pitts right away. Preferably later today."

"Ha-ha, Brian. Ever the comedian, aren't you?

"Well, when the occasion calls for it. You sound tired, Justin. Did you say you've been in the studio since the day before yesterday?"

"Yeah, I've been in the zone, you know. Lost track of time, until you interrupted me."

"Sorry. Actually, no I'm not sorry. I'm not going to tell you what to do, but just make sure you don't end up in the hospital diagnosed with overwork and exhaustion, like yours truly."

"What? You were in the hospital? When? No one told me."

"That's because no one knows, too humiliating. This was a couple of years ago. I was in Boston for a meeting and sort of passed out in the middle of it. That's what 21 hour work days and three hours of sleep for six months straight can apparently do to your body. Don't worry, I was in the hospital only overnight. I promised the doc to get more sleep, to take better care of myself, delegate more work to my many minions and that, as they say, was that."

"I didn't realize you thought of Babylon as work, more like a place of worship, where everyone worships you."

"Now who's the comedian? But, no, that was all Kinnetik. We had a couple of high profile accounts that needed special attention, plus all the other clients and..."

"And you being you, you had to be in charge of all of it, I assume."

"Something like that, yeah."

"Well, I'm glad you are OK. And don't worry, I get enough sleep. As much as I'd like to paint for 48 hours straight, I can't. I just stayed at the studio last couple of nights, that's all. Let's just say that the trip to Chicago was an inspiration."

"So, the gallery opening went well, I take it?"

"Yes, it did. Thanks. Brian, I have a question for you. Back in Chicago you said that you were at my first solo show at the Loring Gallery. When? I didn't see you there. No one did. You were supposed to be in L.A. for a meeting. You texted me as much."

"I was there the night before. I caught Arthur Loring right as he was closing the gallery, he let me see your stuff. It was incredible."

"He never said anything..."

"I asked him not to. I didn't want to interfere."

"I see...No, I don't see. I don't really understand any of this, Brian."

"Come to Pittsburgh and we'll talk – about everything."

"OK, fine. I'll be completely free in three weeks. I'll come for the weekend then, maybe longer."

"Great. I'll see you soon, Sunshine. Later."

"Later..."

Brian hung up feeling a lot more positive about the future, but there was one more pressing detail that needed to be taken care of in New York. He dialed a number that he knew by heart, but one he used only a couple of times a year.

"Loring."

"Arthur, this is Brian Kinney. We need to talk..."

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip<strong>

**A/N: Please read and review. Enormous thanks to everyone who's following this story - you are fantastic!**


	41. Campaign, Part 2 or Later

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 41 – Campaign, Part 2 or Later**

**Justin...  
><strong>

After he and Brian hung up Justin went back to work and tried to paint, but his concentration was pretty much shot. After about two hours he gave up and decided to go home, his thoughts revolving around Brian, their relationship, their break up, his move to New York and four years of silence. He felt like he did his first year in New York – consumed with thoughts of Brian and his art. Brian said that he was at his first solo show and then hinted that there was something more. How much more? Why did he insist on Justin coming to Pittsburgh, to make things easier or harder? Easier or harder for whom? He called Arthur Loring to get some answers, but Arthur just confirmed what Brian already told him and then quickly got off the phone, saying he had a meeting with a client. Arthur, it seemed, wasn't going to be any help at all.

Justin's thoughts went back to the hotel room in Chicago where Brian told him he loved him. He hasn't said it since. Justin tried to convince himself that it didn't matter, but he waited to hear those words again regardless. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to hear those words again quite desperately, but he was 99% sure that it wasn't going to happen. Justin didn't know what that meant for his future and thinking about the various possibilities made his head hurt and his heart afraid of repeating past mistakes. All he knew for certain was that during those hours he spent with Brian in bed of the room 1701 of the W hotel, were the happiest he's been in years. Unfortunately, that meant that if he wanted to be happy with Brian, he'd have to spend the next fifty or sixty years in bed and nowhere else, with the exception of, perhaps, the shower and preferably not thinking or talking. And knowing Brian they wouldn't be alone in that bed 100% of the time.

Justin realized that this merry-go-round of thoughts was getting him nowhere fast. He told himself to be patient, for all would reveal itself in three short weeks when he'll see Brian again. He decided to concentrate on his work, the various things he had scheduled over the next couple of weeks and the upcoming trip to Toronto. He resolved to put Brian out of his mind and not think of him again until his plane touches down at the Pittsburgh airport.

However, that was not to be, for Brian had other ideas. Justin was brushing his teeth at the sink around 11 o'clock that night when he got a text alert and the message nearly made him swallow his toothpaste. It said, _"Good night, Sunshine"_, but the text came from a completely new number. There were only two people in the world who used that nickname – Debbie and Brian. He was reasonably sure who the text was from.

_"Brian?"_

"_Yes"_

"_Thought that was u. New #?"_

"_Work phone. Theodore insisted. Still have old 1. So, what r u wearing?" _That bit made Justin laugh out loud. He looked in the bathroom mirror at his black briefs clad reflection and deciding to play along, replied:

"_Nothing but a smile. U?"_

"_Nothing but a frown...and now a hard on. Thanks! Night, Sunshine."_

"_Night, Brian."  
><em>

"_Later"_

"_Later"_

Justin went to bed smiling – the stupid grin refused to leave his face no matter how hard he tried to erase it. He talked to Brian twice that day, counting the text. He didn't even try to understand as to what Brian was doing or why; and he tried not to wonder when he'd hear from him again, speculating that was an exercise in futility.

He didn't have to wonder for long, however, because during the next two and a half weeks he heard from Brian every single day starting with the very next morning. Justin was drinking a cup of coffee when he received another text alert. It was from Brian and all it said was "Deb's newest fashion statement". Curious, Justin downloaded the picture and the image made him involuntarily snort and spill hot coffee all over his shirt. The picture showed Deb, smiling jauntily, holding a Pink Plate special in each hand and doing her best to strike a sexy pose while wearing a t-shirt in an eye-searing yellow color with a "A queer a day keeps depression away!" emblazoned on the front in cornflower blue. The pose, the smile, the horribly clashing colors of her wig and her outfit, plus the t-shirt slogan were pure Deb and Justin started to miss her terribly. Even though he talked to her fairly often, he hasn't seen her in person in a few months and he hasn't seen her usual diner attire at all since his disastrous trip to Pittsburgh with Jacob over two years ago. He decided to call her later in the day when he had more time. He changed his shirt and sent Brian a reply before heading out the door:

"_LOL. Great pic! BTW, new shirt + laughter + hot coffee = u owe me!"_

"_Not bloody likely! U r not a starving artist, buy yr own shirt."_ came the reply and a minute later was followed by _"Meeting. Later"_

"_Same. Later"_ Justin answered.

The next morning Justin was eating breakfast and drinking coffee shirtless, just in case, and surreptitiously watching his cell, but the text didn't come that morning. Instead it came in the afternoon when a ravenous Justin was eating a fully loaded hot dog from his favorite street vendor. It said: _"Cynthia's latest new hire."_

The picture revealed a sullen looking girl, barely out of her teens, decked out head to toe in black goth garb, with short, spiky jet black hair, and piercings in almost every feature of her face. The girl was strikingly beautiful despite the obvious attitude, the heavy makeup, piercings and what looked like a tattoo climbing up her slender neck. Something about her, though, was so compelling that Justin couldn't help himself – he tried to get his sketchpad and charcoal out of his bag forgetting that he had a hot dog in his hand. He laughed, threw away his half eaten lunch in the trash and hurriedly texted Brian back:

"_Need couple close-up shots of her face asap, only have 1 hr. Need 2 sketch. Email them."_

"_You want to paint her? U r as insane as Cynthia."_

"_Not paint, sketch - charcoal. Need shots NOW! BTW, u owe me another shirt – hot dog, ketchup, mustard - nuff said."_

"_Can't believe u eat that shit! If I send head shots – call it even?"_

"_5 min"_

"_Fine, demanding little twink. 5 min"_

Justin didn't have enough time to go to his place, but there was a Kinko's a couple blocks away. By the time he got there and logged onto his email the pictures were there accompanied by a short message:

"_Meet Zoe, our new receptionist. I think Cynthia's lost her mind – this miniature Mortitia Adams is going to scare all our clients away. But, since I don't judge other people's weirdness, I gave her a two week probation. I hope to God I still have a business to run by the time you come to visit the Pitts. Enjoy! Later, B"_

Justin printed the photos and started sketching_. _About half an hour later he had two preliminary charcoal studies of Zoe complete. One depicted her exactly as she was in the photos. In the other sketch, Justin portrayed her like he imagined she would be sans goth make-up, goth attire and innumerable piercings. The girl was gorgeous, but neither look seemed to suit her somehow. To Justin the two studies of Zoe were very, very rough and needed a lot more refining and work. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to work on them further, so he scanned the two sketches and emailed them to Brian. The subject simply said Zoe, while in the body he wrote _"Thanks for the shots. Take a look at the sketches, though they are pretty rough. BTW, this covers one shirt. U still owe me the other one. Got a meeting. Later, Justin. P.S. Zoe can have the copies if she wants."_

Justin didn't hear from Brian until mid-morning the next day, when he unexpectedly called him, instead of texting.

"Justin, do you have a few minutes?"

"Yeah. I am in the studio today, nothing going on other than that, thankfully. What's up?"

"I have now seen the power of art with my own two eyes and I am well, and truly humbled."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Justin asked, frowning.

"Well, I showed Zoe your sketches on the computer yesterday, asked her if she wanted copies. She said yes, but it didn't look like she cared one way or another. Today when she came in to work I barely recognized her – she was still wearing black head to toe, but it was a lot more subdued, less full on goth. Her make up was still pretty damn dramatic, but a lot less scary and half her facial piercings were missing. When I asked about her, shall we say, transformation, her response was 'casual Friday'. I can't help but like the snarky little bitch. She seems to be doing a good job at reception so far, so I think we'll keep her around for sheer entertainment value. We'll see how long the new look lasts."

"Why do you think it has anything to do with my sketches?"

"Well, apparently she Googled you and created a personal screen saver for the reception desk computer out of the images of your paintings she found online and the two sketches you made of her. Plus, Cynthia also tells me she asked permission to print the sketches on our highest quality paper and using the art department printer, rather than the generic one at her desk. I'd say that's a pretty good indication of her undying, or is it 'undead', devotion to you. Its pretty safe to assume your work was an inspiration."

"Or maybe it really is casual Friday." Justin laughed, "Anyway, I am flattered regardless. Feels good, if not a bit surreal to influence young minds."

"Sounds like you've had some experience in that area?" Brian asked curiously.

"Oh, one of those commitments I was talking about...Arthur asked me to give a gallery talk, basically a lecture, to a bunch of middle school kids about art and being an artist. I've never done that before. I was nervous as hell."

"Sunshine, you've been teaching this stuff to Gus for years. What the fuck do you have to be nervous about?"

"Nothing, I guess. I guess I am a bit more concerned about a similar talk I am supposed to give to the IFA students at NYU next week, considering I am college drop out."

"As I once told Mikey, it's fucking college, who cares. Plus, you've succeeded without a degree in a way that most of those students never will, so don't sweat it."

"I'll try not to. You've always had a way of putting things in perspective, Brian. Thanks."

"You are welcome. By the way, are you still going to Toronto?"

"Yes, my flight leaves at eight tonight."

"Say hi to Sonnyboy for me and text me a picture of that cast masterpiece you promised him, OK?"

"Cast masterpiece?" Justin laughed, "Sure, no problem.

"And, if Gus says anything...weird to you...you know what, never mind. Forget I said anything. OK, I'll let you work."

"Bye, Brian."

"Hey, Justin, if those sketches of yours are rough, than I am the Queen of England. For a half an hour worth of work off of cell phone photos, I'd say they were pretty fucking amazing. I mean that. OK, later."

"Thanks, Brian. Later..."

Justin didn't talk to Brian over the phone for the next week and a half, but the silly SMS and email banter continued on a daily basis. It was always relatively short, sometimes tinged with humor, sweetness or melancholy. Justin was used to Brian's brand of humor, usually dripping with sarcasm, but always right on the money, it never failed to make him laugh. For some reason, Justin kept receiving the funnier texts while handling some sort of food and he managed to dirty even more clothes; thus, Brian owing him a shirt became a recurring inside joke between them, albeit unintentionally. While the humor was something familiar, the sweetness was a whole new experience for him; like when Justin received a three word text before his plane took off for Toronto: _"Safe flight. Later". _Or the "friend" request on Facebook that he received with an accompanying email that said _"Just got a personal Facebook account, God help me. This thing actually requires __me to have a friend, I think. Don't fail me now, Justin, friend me and I'll owe you another shirt."_

Brian's unexpected photos of Pittsburgh were what brought on unanticipated bouts of melancholy that tugged on Justin's heart to the point of pain. Justin received the first such text the morning after he returned to New York from a fun-filled weekend in Toronto – it was a photo of a glorious sunrise taken from the loft, the body of the text simply said _"Good morning, Sunshine"_. Justin immediately recognized those windows and the view of the city skyline afire with the brilliant morning light. It was one of his favorite views in the city and was one of the things he dearly missed about Pittsburgh. Suddenly, he yearned to be there, to inhabit that space once more even for a minute. He wanted to stand in the middle of that glossy wooden floor and slowly turn around, letting his eyes feast on the exposed brick walls, the steel support beams, the wondrous kitchen with its gleaming stainless-steel appliances, the uber-expensive, yet comfortable Italian leather furniture, the slightly raised bedroom dominated by a lake-sized bed, the expanse of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He even wanted to see the naked guy painting – the whole time Justin lived with Brian he never did find out the actual name of the piece or the name of the artist. Justin indulged those thoughts for a few minutes and then firmly pushed them away, willing the longing away. Unfortunately, it returned a few days later when Brian sent him a nighttime shot of Liberty avenue, apparently taken from the middle of the street and looking down its length. It looked as colorful as ever – a kaleidoscope of bright lights, crowds of dressed-up people enjoying the night on the town and rainbow-colored signs advertising bars, clubs and various events being held there. It looked so inviting, so warm, so friendly and oh, so familiar. The thought of seeing that street again, the haven of his youth, with his own eyes in a little over a week filled Justin with eagerness and anticipation, rather than the dread he experienced the last time he was planning a trip to Pittsburgh.

When it was Brian's turn to go to Toronto the weekend after Justin was there, Justin decided to be the one to contact Brian. So far, every text, email and phone call were initiated by Brian and Justin planned on keeping it status quo. However, knowing that Brian was about to board a flight, even though it was a short one, compelled him to reach out. So, he sent him a text _"Safe flight. Be safe. Later". _Brian's reply was simple _"Call me tomorrow. Later, B". _

Justin ended up painting half the night and woke up fairly late on Saturday morning. When he tried calling Brian, he got his voice mail. Instead of leaving a message he called Lindsay, who told him that Brian took Gus to the movies and forgot his phone on the kitchen counter. They tried calling each other a couple of times during the weekend, but as Murphy's Law would have it they kept missing each other and gave up, deciding to stick to emails and texts for the time being.

Justin didn't hear from Brian until he returned to Pittsburgh late Monday night. It was close to midnight and he was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, when his phone signaled an incoming email. Justin picked up his BlackBerry and saw a new email from Brian - it had no subject. Justin opened it and read _"Had to stop at Babylon on the way home from the airport, some paperwork needed to be signed. It just rained and the streets are slightly wet, the air humid and the steam is rising out of the manholes. I walked out of the club, like I have done hundreds of times, not paying attention to anything or anyone. Then I saw it. I looked at it again as if I've never seen it before. I don't know what to say, except that I wish I could turn back time. Brian. P.S. I'm glad you are coming to Pitts this weekend."_

The email had a picture attachment and when he loaded it his breath caught in his throat and his heart constricted in his chest – it was a photo of a lamp post, brightly illuminating the corner of Liberty Avenue and Barkers Street across the road from Babylon. The corner was empty, surprisingly devoid of cars or passers-by, the light and the faint tendrils of steam were the only inhabitants of the lonely image. Justin's mind catapulted him back to that fateful night when he first saw Brian on that very spot and he remembered every detail vividly, as if it happened minutes ago, rather than years. He was, frankly, shocked that Brian remembered the exact spot where they met. Justin has always been under the impression that Brian remembered little of that night and what he did recall didn't really hold that much significance to him, other than Gus's birth, perhaps.

Coming back to the present, Justin thought of the last two weeks he spent "talking" with Brain. Justin didn't know what kind of game Brian was playing or whether it was a game at all. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was brewing between them again and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop it from happening. Granted, he didn't really try to stop it very hard and he was beginning to fear that he didn't want to. He also acknowledged that over the past two weeks their unpredictable conversation bursts via text and email brightened and enlivened his daily existence and that with each passing day he started to look forward to these encounters. When he finally agreed to come to Pittsburgh he thought that he would measure time in weeks until his return to his home town. He had no idea that by the end of the second week, he would start measuring time not in weeks or days, but in hours.

Justin looked at the clock and barely five minutes have passed since he read the email and saw the photo. He looked at it again, bittersweet memories still swirling in the back of his mind, and realized that he was now counting minutes.

"Fuck this shit, I can't wait for the damn weekend. I'm done waiting!" he said aloud, his voice slightly echoing in the empty apartment. He called the airline customer service number, thanking his lucky stars they operated 24/7 and changed his flight from Friday night to Wednesday morning. Even though he told Brian that he couldn't change his plans, in reality he could do whatever he wanted, since his more important commitments were already out of the way. He decided to spend the next day rearranging his schedule and packing. He also decided to keep his early arrival to Pittsburgh a surprise.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.<strong>

**A/N: Please read and review! As always, a huge thanks to those who are following my story.**


	42. Hometown Glory

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 42 – Hometown Glory**

**May 6th, 2009...Justin...**

Justin arrived in Pittsburgh around 10 am on a lovely Wednesday morning - the sun was shining in full force and the weather was unseasonably warm. He picked up his rented Jeep and sped out of the airport eager to see the streets of his hometown. He drove around Pittsburgh looking at the familiar and the new with curious eyes. He wasn't sure why, but he drove through his old neighborhood, past his childhood home that was sold after his parents divorce. Interestingly enough, the site elicited no emotion whatsoever, as if he had no connection at all to the house where he grew up. To him, it was just a house like any other, even though he had many memories of it, both pleasant and not. He drove past his mother's town house and again, the structure itself had zero emotional pull. That was understandable since he has never really lived there, save for a couple of short weeks upon his release from the hospital after the bashing. The only reason he was glad to see it at all was because his mother and sister lived there, and he knew he'd see them sometime later that day.

Next, Justin drove to the PIFA campus and parked in the visitors lot. He walked through the campus grounds, feeling a touch of regret at never having finished his degree. He got a cup of coffee at the student union and walked through the student art gallery studying the pieces displayed there with interest. On the way back to the Jeep the weepy strains of violin music stopped him short. He turned around towards the sound and laughed at himself for thinking even for a second that Ethan was playing for money again on the streets. In fact, the musician was a girl and it seemed that she was either practicing or giving an impromptu performance for her boyfriend seated Indian-style on the grass at her feet.

Getting back into the Jeep, Justin contemplated his next move, deciding to take a somewhat circuitous route to Liberty avenue. He stopped at the Sidney Bloom gallery, the place that gave birth to his professional art career, and spent half an hour browsing around. The owner, unfortunately, was out of town, so Justin left without speaking to anyone. He drove past the house where Lindsay and Melanie used to live, which now belonged to a family with multiple children, the evidence of that lay in the dozens of toys scattered on the front lawn. He realized that he felt more of a connection to this house than to the one that he shared with his parents and sister. He stopped by the Vic Grassi House for a couple of minutes and dropped off a donation check with the receptionist. He drove past Michael's comic book store, briefly considering a stop there, but in the end decided against it. As much as he came to like Michael over the years, his wasn't the first face he wanted to see in Pittsburgh.

Instead, he went to Deb's, hoping that she'd be at home and not at the diner. He parked by her house, climbed the familiar steps and knocked on the bright red door that was shiny from a brand new coat of paint. To his disappointment no one was home. He got back into the Jeep and contemplated where to go next. It was already past one o'clock and his stomach rumbled from sudden hunger, but he didn't want to go to the diner just yet. He got back on the road, thinking of somewhere else to stop for lunch, but his hands steered the Jeep into the heart of Liberty Avenue, seemingly of their own volition. He drove along its length, looking at the familiar places - there was the Liberty Diner on the right, welcoming a busy lunch crowd, Woody's on the left and a couple of blocks down there was Babylon, quiet and deserted in its midday slumber. The lamp post on the corner of the intersection across from the club was partially obscured by an idling car and a couple of pedestrians, so Justin didn't get a chance to see it properly while driving past. A few blocks down he made a turn onto the street that used to house the notorious Liberty Baths, which for the past few years have been home to the offices of Kinnetik.

Brian's Vette was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't mean that he wasn't inside. Justin hasn't heard from Brian that day yet. So, on impulse, he parked in the visitor slot furthest from the entrance, called 411 asking for the main number of Kinnetik and before he knew it he was being transferred there. A couple of rings and a surprisingly authoritative female voice answered:

"Kinnetik. Zoe speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hello, Zoe. This is Justin Taylor. Is Brian Kinney around?" His ear was met with silence that stretched for at least a couple of minutes. "Zoe? Are you there?"

"Justin Taylor, the artist? The one who did charcoal drawings of me?" he voice changed dramatically, the bravado of the original greeting completely gone.

"Yes."

"Oh my God! They are amazing, the sketches. Thank you so much! Oh, and I'm sorry, but Mr. Kinney went to lunch about 15 minutes ago. I am not sure exactly when he'll be back. Do you want me to take a message? Or do you want his voice mail or his cell number? I am not really supposed to give it out, but since you are a friend of his, I'm sure it'll be OK."

Justin laughed, unexpectedly charmed by her solicitousness. "Thank you for the complement, Zoe. I'm glad you liked the sketches. Don't worry about a message or anything else. I have Brian's number, I'll get a hold of him later. Thanks again."

"Oh, you are welcome! Good bye, Mr. Taylor."

Justin hung up and decided he had wasted enough time stalling. Every fiber in his being was pulling him towards the loft, but there were two things he needed to take care of before he would step foot there – food and a place to stay. He started the Jeep and steered towards the diner.

* * *

><p>Justin walked towards the Liberty diner almost hesitantly, on the one hand hoping that the entire gang, Brian included, would be sitting in their usual booth in the middle, but on the other hand, the only familiar face he wanted to see at the moment was Debbie's. As it happened, when he walked inside and looked around he saw that none of the old gang were there. It looked like he missed the height of the lunch rush as well, as the place was already half empty. He saw Debbie making a fresh pot of coffee with her back to the counter and thought that this couldn't be more perfect. He sat on one of the bar stools by the counter directly behind Debbie and loudly said:<p>

"How long does a guy have to wait to get a fucking cup of coffee around here?"

Deb's hands immediately stilled, her back went ram-rod straight, she slowly and menacingly started to turn around with what sounded like an actual growl in her throat and then proceeded to speak enunciating every single word "Excuse the fuck out of..." Suddenly, her eyes landed on a smiling Justin and she fell silent in the middle of her tirade. Then she squealed, clapped her hands and screamed at the top of her lungs, startling several diners "Sunshine! Oh my God, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I came for a visit, Deb. It's so good to see you."

Debbie ran around the counter as fast as she could and enveloped Justin in a crushing hug. She didn't let go for close to five minutes, lightly caressing his hair with one hand and rubbing his back with another as if he were a child.

"God, I missed you, Sunshine! I haven't seen you in what, six months? That's way too long to stay away from your self-proclaimed second mother." Suddenly, she let go and lightly hit him upside the head, making him laugh. "Laugh it up, blondie! Why haven't I heard from you in almost a month? Last time I talked to you were on your way to a pretty important show in Chicago and then you disappeared on me. I had to hear it from others that the show went well and that you went to Toronto to see Gus. What do you have to say to that, Sunshine?"

"I'm sorry, Deb. Things happened and time got away from me. Forgive me?" He looked at her with a pleading expression and then smiled the biggest smile he could muster.

She sighed, kissed him on the cheek and nodded "Of course, I forgive you. Wait a minute, did anyone know you were coming?"

"Ah...Not sure." Justin evaded, "Actually, coming here today was more or less spur of the moment decision. I wasn't actually planning on coming to the Pitts until much later."

"Well, however it all came about, I am so fucking happy you are here, Justin. You hungry? What can I get you?"

Justin ordered a burger, fries and a coffee and waited patiently for Deb to come back and commence the inevitable interrogation. She placed his order with the cook, told Kiki that she's taking her break and walked back towards him with a determined expression on her face. _"Here we go..."_ Justin thought. She stood in front of him and asked:

"Have you seen anyone?"

"Anyone, Deb? No, I haven't seen anyone yet, you are the first."

"Oh, all right, I meant Brian. Have you seen Brian? Michael sort of told me that you ran into each other in Chicago, but he wouldn't tell me anything else, the twerp. Ben said it was none of anyone's business and even Hunter refused to spill the beans. Jennifer doesn't seem to know anything, Emmett and Ted are, as always, clueless. I asked Lindsay and Mel, but all they said was that you've been "talking". What the fuck is going on between you, Sunshine? Is there anything going on?"

As much as Justin would have liked to lie to Debbie or use some sort of flippant answer, he couldn't do either one, not to her face.

"I don't really know what to tell you, Deb. Yeah, we've been talking since seeing each other in Chicago. He came to my show, did you know that? First time he did that since I moved away. He bought one of my paintings." He said with a note of wonder in his voice. He was about to continue, but he noticed a strange look on Debbie's face. It looked like she was about to say something, but changed her mind and was desperately trying to hide that fact. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing, Sunshine. Don't worry about it. Continue."

"Well, there isn't much to say. Seeing him again made me realize that I never properly moved on. Brian wanted me to come to Pittsburgh, he wanted to talk also, so...We've been exchanging texts, emails a couple of calls here and there, but nothing really is going on."

"Really?" She asked, clearly not convinced.

"Really, Deb. I'm here to visit my hometown, see you, my friends, my family. It's been too long. Seeing Brian is secondary. Yes, secondary. It is, really, I promise."

"Honey, are you promising me or yourself?" She looked at him pointedly and then sighed. "God, the two of you are better than a fucking soap opera, I swear. I wish the two of you would...never mind, I have enough to worry about. You two aren't kids anymore, that's for sure. You've always been more mature than most, Sunshine, but you still grew up a lot over the last four years. So has Brian, thank God. I hope the both of you will figure out what the hell you want and stick to it." She patted his cheek affectionately and smiled. "Oh, your food's ready. I'll be right back."

"Thanks, Deb."

She plopped his plate in front of him unceremoniously, poured him a cup of coffee and then leaned on the counter with her chin on top of her folded hands to watch him eat.

"I missed you, Sunshine. Seeing you here is just like old times. So, where are you staying? At the loft?"

Justin nearly choked on his burger at her suggestion. "No! Of course not! I was planning on staying at a hotel."

"The hell you are! You are staying with me and Carl in your old room and that's final, you hear?" She grabbed his chin with her fingers and made him look her straight in the eyes.

"OK, Deb. I will, thanks." Justin pretended to grudgingly accept Debbie's command, but in reality he was hoping for just such an invitation. He would've been fine with a hotel and that's exactly where he originally planned to stay, but knocking on her bright red door earlier in the morning filled him with unexpected longing. He realized that the small upstairs bedroom in Debbie's house felt like more of a home to him than his parents huge house ever did. That small bedroom was his comfort and a refuge from the pain of his father's and then Brian's rejection. He genuinely missed it and was inordinately glad that Debbie wanted him to stay with her.

"Good. Well, my shift ends at six and I'll be home a little after. Do you know when you'll be in?"

"Not sure yet, Deb, but not too late. I wanted to see mom and Molly, see Brian..."

"Right. Well, I'll give you my keys, that way you can come in whenever. Don't worry, Carl will give me a ride home after shift. I'll make sure there's some leftovers for you in the fridge, if you get hungry." After that, Debbie went back to work, leaving him to finish his burger in silence. He refused to let Debbie pay for his lunch when he was done and left her an enormous tip, when she wasn't looking. He was almost out the door when Debbie called him back handing him a takeaway container.

"Lemon bars." She said in explanation. "Take them, no arguments. Brian's always liked them, as did you." She shoved the container in his hands, winked and quickly walked back towards the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Justin parked on Tremont in front of a familiar building and sat in the Jeep for a few minutes looking up towards the top floor unit. He walked inside and ran up the steps as he used to in the past, his heart hammering in his chest, harder and faster with each step he took towards the loft. He unlocked the metal door, walked in, disengaged the alarm, slid the door closed and stood with his back to the living space for a couple of minutes, trying to calm himself down. He then walked into the the middle of the floor facing the windows, deciding to do a 360 degree turn just like he imagined when he got Brian's "sunrise" photo the week before.<p>

At first, everything seemed the same – the sheer curtains were exactly the same, most of the furniture and the kitchen appliances were unchanged; the partition between the bedroom and the rest of the living space was slightly modified, but very similar to the way it was when he left the loft for the last time. It didn't surprise him in the least that the computer, stereo system and television were upgraded to the best and the latest. However, the art on the walls was what stunned him into immobility and almost made him lose his grip on the container of lemon bars he forgot he still held. The "naked guy" painting was gone replaced with one of the large scale abstract canvases he did while still living in Pittsburgh – one of the two that Lindsay sold to an unknown customer the day he left for New York. _"Son of a bitch!"_ He thought, _"He did buy those paintings, I can't believe Lindsay lied!" _He wildly looked around, thinking that he'll see the companion piece, but it wasn't there. Instead, the wall in the office area revealed one of the pieces sold at his second solo show at the Loring Gallery. Another wall displayed a couple of his city-scapes of New York done in charcoal that at one point were hanging at the Mary Ellen Watson's gallery on the Upper West Side. He stumbled up the steps towards the bedroom and saw one of his representational paintings of a street musician, a saxophonist, that was sold at a the show in Austin hanging above Brian's dresser on the left side of the bed. His drawing of Brian sleeping in the nude, that he sold for a hundred bucks for charity at the GLC the year they met, was hanging above the bedside table on the right hand side. Justin had no idea that Brian kept that drawing to this day.

Bewildered, Justin sank onto the edge of the bed and realized that he still clutched the container of lemon bars. The absurdity of that snapped him out of the shock and he laughed, though the laughter died on his lips a minute later. By his estimation, half the art hanging in Brian's loft was his and Justin had no idea what to think of that. _"I need to talk to Brian. Now!"_ he thought. Justin looked at his watch, but it was still fairly early in the afternoon and he didn't want to interrupt Brian with a phone call, in case he was in a meeting. He decided to do something a bit creative instead. Justin went back into the living room, put the container of lemon bars on Brian's Mies van der Rohe coffee table, opened the lid and took a snapshot with his camera phone. He texted Brian the picture with a caption _"Fancy a snack?" _and sat down on the couch to wait.

Five minutes later he was getting a sketchpad and pencil out of his bag that he left by the door when his phone rang.

"Sunshine, where are you exactly?" Brian asked.

"The loft."

"I'll be there in twenty." was Brian's brisk reply and next thing Justin heard was the dial tone.

* * *

><p><strong>Brian...<strong>

Brian was not having a good day. One of his newer employees in the art department managed to screw up the boards for a presentation scheduled for that afternoon. The ad exec responsible for that particular campaign was foaming at the mouth, wanting the kids' blood. The kid was hired straight out of college and has been with the company for less than two months. Sadly, it wasn't his first screw-up. Brian understood the idea of learning from one's mistakes and improving with practice. The problem was that the kid refused to learn and the word "improvement" wasn't part of his vocabulary. At this point, Brian had no choice but to fire the guy, which at barely 9 am in the morning wasn't the most pleasant of ways to start the day.

After that, it seemed like all hell broke loose – their server had a "hiccup" as the IT guy called it, leaving them without email and internet for close to two hours; one of the art department's multi-function Xerox machines broke down, throwing half the team into a state of panic; one of the models being featured in one of their ads came to the photo shoot hung over and with a black eye, sending the photographer into a veritable rage; and one of his clients from California called Brian at 10 am, meaning 6 am L.A. time, with a litany of complaints and threats of a lawsuit, none of which happened to be valid in any shape or form. All of this was dumped on Brian's desk and, normally, he would have dealt with the chaos with his usual aplomb. Unfortunately, it was not to be, for to top off the madness of the morning, his personal coffee machine died a spectacular death by somehow blowing up and spewing hot liquid and wet coffee grounds all over the counter and all over Brian's brand new Hugo Boss suit. To add insult to serious injury (to the suit, at least), he had to clean up the mess himself as his useless assistant called in sick for the third time in two weeks and with everything else going wrong that morning, no one else was available. Brian called Mike and asked him to drive to the loft and get him a change of clothes, but he had a store full of customers all after a new issue of some graphic novel and he couldn't leave. Emmett didn't answer his phone, Ted was at the dentist getting a root canal, Cynthia was on vacation and Brian was forced to bribe Zoe with a raise in order to get her to go to the Hugo Boss store to pick up a new suit, shirt and tie that he ended up ordering over the phone and charging to his credit card.

By one o'clock, Brian felt like he did nothing but put out fires that kept flaring around the office all day and he was frustrated, hungry and exhausted. He went to a Japanese place for lunch a few blocks away from Liberty avenue just because he knew it would not be crowded and relatively quiet. His lunch hour was interrupted by Nate Turner who called regarding a liquor license renewal problem at Babylon. Apparently the paperwork was somehow lost at the city clerk's office and they had to resubmit everything by the end of business day or the club would be in serious trouble. Brian didn't really have much time to go to Babylon to resign paperwork, so the extra chore soured his already foul mood even further. When he got back to the office, he found out that they lost a potential client thanks to a previous screw up by the kid Brian fired that morning. The fact that it was a rather minor account didn't appease Brian in the slightest, it seemed to irritate him even more.

When a text alert on his personal phone came through around 3:30, Brian was in the middle of a progress report meeting with a team working on an ad campaign for one of their brand new clients out of Chicago. Unsurprisingly, considering the rest of his day, the meeting wasn't going well. At first, he was going to ignore the text, but then he thought that if the text was bringing him bad news, he'd rather find out immediately, rather than prolong the torture. When he saw that the text was from Justin, he was glad he decided to look at it right away. The words "fancy a snack" and the picture of several perfect lemon bar squares made him smile for the first time that day and had a surprising calming affect. He was about to send a reply, when the coffee table the container of lemon bars was sitting on finally registered and made him do a double take – it wasn't just any coffee table, it was _his_ Mies van der Rohe coffee table standing on _his_ living room rug, on _his _hardwood floor, in _his_ loft in Pittsburgh. Brian's heart started to beat faster, his breath caught in his throat and he could scarcely believe his eyes. _"No fucking way,"_ he thought, _"There's no possible way something this good can happen on such a shit day!"_

He interrupted an argument that was brewing between a couple of members of the team at the conference table.

"Listen up, everybody. We aren't getting anywhere, not today. This has been a fucking god-awful day for everyone and it doesn't look like it's going to get any better. Everyone is stressed, tired, pissed off, including me, and it's affecting this campaign. So, this meeting is over. Take the rest of the day off, get some rest and tomorrow you'd better be brilliant. Now, get the hell out of my office, I have a phone call to make."

He didn't have to tell them twice. His office was empty in record time and immediately he called Justin.

"Sunshine, where are you exactly?" he said as soon as the call was answered.

"The loft..." Brian's heart began to beat even faster when he heard that reply.

"I'll be there in twenty" Brian said and accidentally hung up. He thought of calling Justin back, but decided to just get to the loft as soon as possible and talk to Justin in person. He grabbed his briefcase and was walking out the door when he remembered that his schedule was full for the next two days and there was no guarantee his assistant wouldn't call in sick again tomorrow. "Shit!" he screamed in frustration and then he had an idea.

"Zoe, get in here! Now!" he shouted to the receptionist. She stalked into his office with a frown and said:

"Mr. Kinney, I don't appreciate being barked at. I am a receptionist, not a dog. I don't..."

"Zoe," Brian interrupted impatiently, "If you can successfully reschedule, postpone, reshuffle, do whatever you have to do to somehow clear my schedule for the next two days and hold down the fort here at my office until I return on Monday, I will promote you to my executive assistant."

She looked at him as if he was completely insane, "You already have an EA."

"She keeps calling in sick and when she is here, she hardly works, yet, manages to screw up half the time anyway. I should have fired her weeks ago. If she returns tomorrow, she'll be relegated to the reception desk, if not, get a temp. You have until 5 pm to clear my calendar and consider the next two days your probationary period. If you don't screw up, the EA position is yours. Tell Mitch in IT to give you access to my calendar and get you set up. If he gives you shit, tell him to call me to confirm. I'm taking the rest of today and the next two days off. Call me tomorrow morning and let me know about my schedule. Oh, and Zoe, remember Cynthia, the one that hired you? Well, she started out as my assistant about twelve years ago, now she's second in command at this company. Take a lesson and don't screw up!" On that note, he walked out of his office leaving a stunned Zoe behind.

Brian took every shortcut he knew in order to get to the loft as fast as possible. Thankfully, this being early afternoon traffic didn't present a problem and Brian got there barely half and hour after talking to Justin. He ran up the stairs, his mood lighter with every step that took him closer the door. He slid the door open, walked in and there he was, sitting on the couch, quietly sketching. Their eyes met and, suddenly, they both smiled.

"Sunshine, you are home..."

"Yes, I am."

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, other than any characters I introduced. The chapter title belongs to one of my favorite singers, Adele (the song of the same title was a bit of an inspiration for this chapter).<strong>

**A/N: Please read and review and thank you to those who are following this story.**


	43. The Loft

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 43 – The Loft**

**Justin...**

When Justin found himself idle for longer than five or ten minutes, his hands usually itched for a paper and pencil, and more often than not he'd find himself quickly absorbed in a new drawing. But waiting for Brian to come home from work was by no means a usual circumstance, not anymore, and his nerves were making it impossible for him to focus on anything at all. After fifteen minutes of staring at a blank page in his sketch pad, Justin drew a stick figure out of sheer frustration. "There! I can at least draw a fucking stick figure. If all else fails, I'll get a job teaching art to toddlers." he muttered. Then, all of a sudden, the stick figure looked entirely incomplete – it was missing a face, fingers, feet and, possibly, clothes. So Justin proceeded to add wild looking eyes, a crooked nose and a murderous grin with over-sized, overlapping teeth. He added a rakish-looking bandanna on top of the stick-figures head. The doodle (Justin refused to call it an actual drawing) was looking better and better, so he continued to "improve" it further by adding an enormous knife clutched in the stick figures' right hand and a frying pan in the other. He "dressed" his stick figure in a gigantic food stained apron with "Born to Cook!" written across the chest and added an almost realistic pair of unlaced army boots to the stick figure's feet. He continued to sketch, not realizing that his crazy fry-cook doodle finally helped him focus his mind on something other than his emotional turmoil and that the nervousness he felt slowly seeped out of his body.

All too soon, the door to the loft slid open and Brian stepped inside. He was wearing an expensive looking suit, but the overall look was less than impeccable, somehow rumpled all over - his hair was disheveled, his tie loosened up, a couple of buttons undone at his collar and he was breathing like he just ran up the steps two at a time. Seeing Brian looking slightly imperfect, at least as far as business attire was concerned, made Justin smile. As their eyes met, the look of profound relief and joy on Brian's face mesmerized him. So when Brian's words reached his ears "Sunshine, you are home...", Justin answered without thinking,

"Yes, I am."

The realization that that's exactly where he was, slammed into him like a lightning bolt. This loft, has always felt like home to him more than any other place that he has ever lived in. As much as he loved his bedroom at Debbie's and as much satisfaction as owning his own apartment in New York brought him, he instinctively knew that both of those places were never meant to be permanent. Back in New York, before he reconnected with Brian again, he hoped that someday when he was ready, he'd sell his apartment and buy a house of his dreams, away from the city. But being back at the loft and especially after hearing Brian utter the word "home", made him realize that against his better judgment _this was it_, his true home, good and bad memories, happiness and heartache included. Justin realized that if he could, he'd stay here forever and never leave. _"What the fuck am I going to do?"_ he thought in a panic. His heart told him _"Stay...",_ while his head kept flashing an imaginary _"Warning! Danger ahead!"_ sign in his mind. So he followed his head and tried to do damage control by amending what he previously said:

"I mean, Pittsburgh really is home. Today, I realized that I've missed it more than I thought I did. I definitely won't be able to stay away for so long again. I plan to be a frequent visitor..."

While Justin was talking, Brian was walking towards him, discarding his briefcase and his clothes on the way. The briefcase was unceremoniously dumped onto the kitchen counter. His jacket thrown over the back of a bar stool. His tie landed on a Barcelona chair that was on the other side of the coffee table opposite the couch. The cuff links fell with an almost musical ting on to the glass surface of the coffee table and a few seconds later the shirt was unbuttoned and untucked revealing a tight, white wife-beater underneath. This little strip-tease was done completely unconsciously by Brian who was just shedding the remnants of an awful day at work, but to Justin each movement seemed incredibly erotic to the point where it was getting difficult for him to breathe. But then, Brian stopped right in front of Justin, who was still sitting on the couch, and he finally got a good look at Brian's face – his expression was still relatively happy, but exhaustion was clearly written in every feature and the lines around his eyes and the one on his forehead appeared more prominent. He touched his fingertips to his temple and frowned slightly, as if fighting a headache, and at that precise moment Brian looked all of his 38 years.

"God, Brian, you look like shit! I don't think I've ever seen you look this tired." Justin exclaimed.

"Thanks for that, Sunshine! Actually, I've had just about the worst day at work ever since starting the company. It seems that everything that could've possibly gone wrong did, starting this morning. The universe conspired against me and proceeded to crap on me pretty much non-stop until I got your text. Thanks for rescuing me because I don't know what I would've done and to whom if I didn't get out of there."

"You are welcome, anytime." Justin replied. Justin didn't know what he wanted more – to rip the rest of Brian's clothes off his body and start licking him top to bottom and back again, or to start asking him questions he desperately needed answers to. But then he realized that now wasn't the time for either sex or serious discussions. "Headache?"

"Yeah. Can't get rid of the damn thing. It took up residence in my skull around ten a.m. and two doses of medication later it still hasn't been evicted." Brian sighed and heavily dropped next to Justin on the couch, stretching his long legs in front of him and laying his head on the back cushion. He turned his head, looked at Justin and quietly said, "I'm glad you are here, Justin." Justin didn't say anything at first, but then he abruptly moved away from Brian to the other end of the couch, making him frown in confusion.

"Take off your shoes, stretch out and put your head in my lap." Justin ordered.

"What? You want my head in your lap?" Brian wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously and grinned.

"Ha-ha! I am not after a blow-job, Brian. If I was, I'd find someone who isn't liable to fall asleep with my dick in his mouth out of sheer exhaustion or bite it off because of a splitting headache. Now, shoes off, head in lap!" he commanded. When Brian complied, stretched out and laid his head on Justin's lap, looking up at his face, Justin continued, "I just wanted to give you a head massage. There are these pressure points – they are supposed to relieve stress, headaches, that sort of thing. It actually works, at least on me."

Then he plunged his hands into Brian's hair, raked through it several times and then proceeded to massage his scalp all over with his fingertips. Brian visibly relaxed, his eyes fluttered closed and he sighed in contentment. Justin's fingers went to the base of his scalp, found the pressure point and gently rubbed it in circular motion for a couple of minutes. Then he did the same with each of Brian's hands, gently rubbing the pressure points between his thumbs and his forefingers. Then he moved on to his temples for a few minutes and then went back to massaging the rest of his scalp. Ten minutes later, Brian was dead asleep – warm puffs of air quietly escaping his slightly open lips, the lines in his face smoothed out, the tension around his mouth disappeared and he suddenly looked incredibly young and heartbreakingly beautiful.

"What am I going to do about you? I am so fucked..." Justin whispered. He continued to caress Brians head, alternating between gently massaging his scalp and raking his fingers through his hair. After about half an hour of these ministrations in the silent loft, Justin was getting sleepy himself. He didn't want to disturb Brian's slumber by moving too much, so he snuggled deeper and laid his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds, his left hand tangled in the silky brown locks on his lap, his right hand coming to rest on Brian's chest. 

* * *

><p><strong>Brian...<strong>

Brian woke up disoriented. For the first few seconds he didn't know where he was, but then he realized that he was stretched out on his couch, his head comfortably ensconced in Justin's lap. He looked up and saw that Justin was asleep, his lashes throwing shadows onto his slightly flushed cheeks. Brian moved his left hand to look at his watch and noticed that his and Justin's fingers were tightly intertwined – it seemed that in sleep their bodies knew better what they both wanted, then when they were awake and aware. Brian, who until that moment thought that all superstitions and signs from above were basically bullshit, decided to take that as a good omen.

He looked at his watch and was surprised to find that it was just past seven o'clock. He's been dead to the world for almost three hours. For a minute he was upset with himself for wasting precious time sleeping rather than talking to Justin. But then he realized that his headache was completely gone, as were the crushing fatigue and muscle tension. In fact, he felt more rested and relaxed than he had been in a long time. His stomach growled loudly, making his hunger known almost to a painful degree. Brian remembered that he hadn't really eaten since the day before – he missed breakfast, hardly had any coffee all day and only managed to eat two pieces of sushi before his lunch was rudely interrupted. He tried to get up as carefully as possible in order not to disturb Justin, but as soon as he shifted off of Justin's lap, he awoke with a start, rapidly blinking and then hissing in pain.

"What's wrong? Are you OK?" Brian asked in concern.

"My leg fell asleep. Now it's waking up with a vengeance. Fuck!" He began to rub his leg vigorously, wincing every so often.

"Need help?"

"No, I'll be fine in a minute, thanks." he replied.

"Don't be silly, a few hours ago you helped me, now I'll return the favor. Besides, I am the reason it's asleep."

Brian knelt in front of Justin and started massaging his leg also, smoothing the unpleasant tingling sensation away. Neither one of them knew how it happened, but after a few minutes their hands tangled together and they started kissing. Their clothes melted off as if by magic and they ended up on the rug right next to the couch, their mouths fused together, hands frantically roaming the planes of each others bodies, hunger and muscle discomfort completely forgotten. Suddenly, Brian tore his lips away, rapidly shifted and in one swift motion lifted Justin's legs onto his shoulders, his hands going towards his ass, then he leaned down again and was about to kiss him, when Justin moaned one word,

"Condom?" Brian's entire body froze in an instant, he looked at Justin with astonished eyes and whispered,

"Fuck! I can't believe I fucking forgot...I never..."

"Good thing I remembered." Justin whispered, interrupting, "Bedroom?"

"Yeah..." They untangled themselves and got up a little awkwardly; their clumsiness made them smile, then laugh, dispelling the suddenly serious mood. Brian didn't know what possessed him to do it, but on the spur of the moment he moved towards Justin with lightning speed, picked him up and threw him over the shoulder, making Justin squeak in surprise and then laugh uproariously. The lighthearted sound made Brian laugh again in return; he smacked Justin lightly on his bare ass and grinning evilly intoned,

"I'll get you, my pretty and your little...scratch that...and your really big dick too!" That sent Justin in a fresh bout of giggles. Then Brian ran to the bedroom, effortlessly getting up the steps as if Justin weighed nothing at all and then threw him on the bed. Brian sauntered towards the bed side table, got out a condom packet, tore it with his teeth, spitting a bit of silvery foil onto the floor and then jumped on the bed and on top of Justin, smiling happily. 

* * *

><p>Several hours and condoms later Brian and Justin lay in a sweaty tangle on the bed, sated, content and utterly exhausted.<p>

"That was even better than Chicago." Brian said, finally raising his head from the crook of Justin's neck.

"You think?"

"I know. Don't you agree?" Brian asked with a frown.

"I was just fucking with you, Brian. Yes, I agree. In fact, it was nothing short of amazing." Justin gave Brian a quick kiss on the nose and then wiggled out from under him, and started to get out of bed.

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"Bathroom. Need to pee." Justin answered over his shoulder. When he came back he started to look around the floor for his clothes, forgetting that they were still back in the living room.

"What the hell are you doing?" Brian asked curiously.

"Looking for my clothes." Justin answered distractedly.

"Why? I thought you'd come back to bed, so we can, you know..." Brian's voice trailed off without finishing the sentence.

"You can't possibly want to fuck me again already? We've been at it non-stop for, what, three, four hours?" Justin exclaimed.

"Four and no, I mean...so we can, you know?"

"No, Brian, I don't know." At this point, Justin was getting slightly exasperated.

"The 'c' word."

"Cunt?" Justin asked incredulously. "Last time I checked, which was just a minute ago in the bathroom, I was still male and a proud owner of a well-endowed cock. At least that's what I've been told."

"Which is entirely true, I confirm. I was thinking we'd lay in bed for a bit, relax..." Then Brian winced, actually blushed to the roots and looking extremely uncomfortable continued, "...you know, cuddle."

At that word, Justin was rendered speechless. Never in his life has he seen Brian blush or be uncomfortable while naked in bed; and he has never heard Brian use the word "cuddle" before, not even sarcastically.

"Cuddle...Cuddle? Brian Kinney doesn't cuddle. He rims, rams and fucks, but he never cuddles!"

"No, I never have. Not with a lover, at least. You could say that Lindsay and I cuddled a few times back in college, but we were drunk, high and there was nothing remotely sexual or romantic about it. It was friendly, in a misery-loves-company kind of way. You could say that I cuddled with Gus a few times when he cried or when I was trying to get him to sleep, but he's a kid - my kid. You are supposed to cuddle with your kids to make them feel better, to make them feel safe or whatever. But with a trick or a lover, no, I've never cuddled. Never wanted to, not once. Except with you. I wanted that many, many times, but I didn't want to admit it. It scared the fuck out of me, but I am not afraid anymore, Justin. We've had pretty incredible sex for the last few hours. I feel really, really good and I don't want to get up just yet. I want to lie here and...I don't know...wallow. I'd rather do that with you next to me than alone, it's as simple and as complicated as that. If you don't want to use the word "cuddle" then we won't, we'll use wallow. So, indulge me, Sunshine. Come back to bed and let's..."

"Wallow? Sounds good to me..." Justin got back into bed and slid next to Brian. They lay next to each other not touching at all for about a minute, then Brian stretched out his arm and Justin moved in, laying his head on Brian's shoulder; immediately Brian's arm curled and he started playing with Justin's hair. A minute later Justin slightly turned and put his arm around Brian's waist. Then Brian slightly turned and his leg found a comfy spot on Justin's thigh. Their feet inched closer together until their toes lightly touched. They lay together loosely intertwined, enjoying the closeness and the calm for about five minutes. Then Brian quietly cursed and said with chagrin,

"Damn, now I have to pee!"

That made Justin howl with laughter. He laughed while Brian was in the bathroom and didn't stop when Brian came back to bed a couple of minutes later. He laughed so long and so hard that his stomach muscles started to cramp up and tears appeared in his eyes. Justin thought that he was never going to stop laughing, but then Brian gently brushed the tears of mirth from his eyes with his thumbs and then did something even more unexpected – he brushed the tip of Justin's nose with his in an Eskimo kiss. It was the most ridiculously romantic thing Brian has ever done, at least the most romantic thing that Justin could remember. As suddenly as it began, his laughter stopped and a second later they were kissing again, even more passionately then before and a few minutes later Brian was reaching for another condom. 

* * *

><p>"As much as I would like to cuddle again, and yes, I like the word 'cuddle', Brian, although wallow isn't a bad alternative at all. Anyway, as I was saying, as much as I would like to cuddle again, I am starving." His stomach loudly growled as if to prove the point. "See? Starving!"<p>

"Yeah, I am pretty damn hungry myself. I haven't really eaten anything substantial since yesterday." Brian looked at the clock and said, "Well, shit, delivery's out, it's almost midnight. We have two options – the Liberty Diner or I can make us some pasta, or an omelette."

Justin looked at Brian in shock, "You? Cook? I've never seen you cook anything ever, let alone an omelette. And pasta? I thought you don't eat carbs past a certain time."

"Sunshine, after the last few hours, you and I can eat two pounds of pasta each right now and we'll burn it all off in a few minutes, I'm sure. As for me cooking, Deb taught me when she stayed over at Bri...never mind. Anyway, turns out it's pretty easy – at least the pasta and the omelette. That's pretty much the extent of my culinary abilities, but in a pinch they work. So, what'll it be?"

Justin thought for a moment then said, "The Diner, I guess. I'll take my Jeep, that way I can just head over to Debbies' right after." At those words Brian abruptly sat up.

"What do you mean 'head over to Debbies'? You are not staying here?"

"No. I originally planned to stay at a hotel, but Debbie insisted that I stay with her. She gave me her keys." At Brian's confounded expression, Justin started to get out of bed and hastily continued, "I was actually hoping she'd invite me. So, it worked out really well. Listen, maybe I should just go there now. I..." He stole a quick glance at Brian and the rest of his words died on his lips. Brian actually looked hurt, though he quickly hid that expression behind his trademark mask of polite indifference. He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, then seemingly involuntarily his expression changed again to one of sadness and he uttered a single word,

"Stay..."

It wasn't a command or a demand, or a plea. It was just one word delivered simply and quietly, and was all the more powerful for it's complete sincerity. Justin simply couldn't refuse such a request.

"OK. I'll stay." 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, the lucky, lucky bastards.<strong>

**A/N: I usually post several chapters at once, but I thought, what the hell. I wish I was better at writing "the sexy times", as I call them, but I am just not that good at it, sadly. I am hoping that less is, well, more. So, enjoy and please read, and review! As always, a huge THANK YOU to absolutely everyone who's following my story.**


	44. Of Pasta, Preachers, Rumors & the Diner

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 44 – Of Pasta, Preachers, Rumors & the Diner**

"OK. I'll stay."

"Great!" Brian smiled, then jumped out of bed. "So, what'll it be – the Diner, pasta or an omelette?"

"Brian Kinney cooking – now this, I've got to see!" Justin joked, "Make whatever you want, Brian. At this point I am so hungry, I'll eat anything."

"Wow, your confidence in me is simply astounding, Sunshine!" Brian said sarcastically.

Justin laughed, "That's not what I meant and you know it! I meant...You know what, if I continue, I'll just dig myself further in, so I'll just shut up."

"Good boy!" Brian pulled on a pair of sweats, threw another pair to Justin and went down the steps to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards.

Justin followed him down, sat on one of the bar stools, folded his hands on the counter and resting his chin on top of his hands settled to watch Brian cook. It looked like Brian decided on cooking pasta. It should have been simple – one pot for the pasta water and spaghetti, another one to warm the sauce from the jar, a couple of plates, a couple of forks. But for some reason, the kitchen was soon filled with pots and pans, a couple of bowls, a few plates and enough silverware and cutlery for half a dozen people. Justin took in the scene with amusement, but wisely kept his comments to himself. Justin decided that he didn't care if the kitchen looked like a hurricane went through it, as long as he ended up having some sort of food after. Besides, he thought that he wouldn't mind cleaning up after "hurricane Brian" in the slightest. When Brian inexplicably picked up a cleaver in one hand and a roasting pan in the other, Justin suddenly remembered his doodle from earlier that day and burst out laughing. When Brian looked at him with bared teeth and a growl in this throat, Justin laughed even more, but then tried to explain himself.

"I am not laughing at you, I promise. For a second you just reminded me of a drawing of mine, well, a doodle really. I'll show it to you, if you like. After dinner, OK?" Brian agreed and continued with whatever it was that he was doing. It turned out that Brian was simply moving the roasting pan and the cleaver elsewhere in the kitchen. _"Why in the world did Brian own a roasting pan to begin with?"_ Justin thought. As for the cleaver, he surmised that it was probably a part of a knife set.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting at the little dining table with bowls of steaming spaghetti covered in rich sauce. It was surprisingly good, perfectly al dente and the sauce was simply incredible. For a few minutes they ate in complete silence, wolfing down their dinner with gusto. Justin got seconds and said,

"Brian, either this is the best plate of pasta I've had outside of an Italian restaurant in New York, or I am hungrier than I thought. And this sauce, it's fucking amazing!"

"That's because it's Deb's. She gives me a jar every couple of weeks or so. She just puts it in a jar from the store bought crap for me. Glass is a bit easier to handle for some reason. I once lost my grip on one of her plastic containers and was covered in sauce from head to toe. I felt like I was picking tomato out of my hair for a week afterwords."

"God, I would have paid to see that." Justin giggled. "I have to ask this, so don't be upset, whats with all the pots and pans in the kitchen? You didn't use most of them."

"Oh, I was just fucking with you." Brian laughed, "I wanted to see if you'd say something seeing as you had so little confidence in my cooking skills, but you didn't. I was sure that the cleaver and the roasting pan would finally do it and I was so fucking right!"

"You little shit!" Justin exclaimed and threw his napkin at Brian. Brian caught it easily, chuckling.

"Hey, that's your 'title'! Besides, you deserved it! I run a multimillion dollar advertising agency pretty damn successfully – if I can do that, I can figure out how to make spaghetti and cover it with pre-made pasta sauce. By the way, the 'doodle' you mentioned, let's see it."

Justin brought over his sketch pad and the forgotten container of lemon bars. They tore into the tangy-sweet desert with mumbles of "Thank God for Deb" and moans of pleasure. When the lemon bars were decimated, Brian finally took a look at the sketch and laughed,

"Interesting direction your art's taking..."

"I was kind of nervous when I first got here, couldn't concentrate. When I get a mental block like that I usually draw something totally silly to spite myself and, for some reason, it works. Today it was a stick figure."

"It looks more like a cartoon character than a simple stick figure. It's actually a good likeness of what I probably looked like the very first time I tried to cook anything. Well, minus the crooked nose, the messed up teeth and the army boots, of course."

"Of course." Justin agreed, smiling. Brian was nothing, if not vain.

"Come to think of it, this is scarily close to what the new part-time cook at the diner looks like. You should show it to Deb, she'll love it. Hell, I love it, but I think this piece of cartoon art better suits the décor of the diner than my loft." Brian said, still studying the doodle.

This was the perfect opening for Justin to ask Brian about his art on the walls and get some answers. But he was strangely reluctant to spoil the lighthearted atmosphere of the evening. Brian had an awful day at work and the last few hours of passion, fun and laughter seemed to completely erase the stress from his face, so Justin let the opportunity go. _"I'll do a Scarlett O'Hara and think about it tomorrow."_ he decided. Instead, as they started cleaning up the table and the kitchen together, Justin asked Brian about his day.

At first, Brian was unwilling to recount the misery of his workday, but thinking of it through the prism of the last few happy hours, none of it suddenly seemed all that bad. Some parts now seemed downright funny, so he proceeded to tell Justin all about his day as they finished putting the kitchen to rights and went back to bed. Justin found the part about his coffee maker blowing up especially hilarious,

"God, what is it with us and food all of a sudden? You with tomato sauce and coffee and me drinking and eating something every time you call or text. My dry cleaning bill pretty much doubled in the last couple of weeks."

"I know, it's an epidemic that must be stopped. By last count how many shirts do I owe you, anyway?" Brian asked grinning.

"One, but I'll take it in trade." Justin whispered, giving Brian a quick peck on the lips and nuzzling his neck.

"Oh? What do you have in mind?" At first, Justin was going to say "you letting me fuck you", but something completely different came out of his lips,

"Tell me where Deb taught you to cook. You said "Bri" and then stopped. What were you talking about?"

Brian's body stilled and he quietly answered "I'd rather show you then tell you, if you don't mind. I told you before that there were things I wanted to show you in Pittsburgh. Tomorrow, OK?"

"Tomorrow is today, but OK. Anyway, seems that more than just the coffee machine blowing up and your suit needing emergency "surgery" happened. Continue?"

Brian told Justin about the rest of his day up until leaving a stunned Zoe behind in his office, happy that more serious topics were postponed for at least a little bit. In Chicago, the last time he attempted to talk to Justin about how he felt while naked in bed, the conversation didn't go so well. Besides, his decision to keep sex in the background in his efforts to get Justin back kind of required him to be clothed and away from the bedroom. On the other hand, when it came to sex and Justin, any room and any surface, whether horizontal or vertical, would pretty much do and clothes or lack thereof didn't matter in the slightest. Brian forced those thoughts out of his mind with difficulty and focused on what Justin was saying – it seemed he was slightly shocked at his treatment of Zoe.

"I mean you aren't really going to let her flounder by herself for the next two days, are you?"

"No, of course not. I let her think that just to bring her down a peg or two. She's smart, capable and does a decent job at the reception desk. Cynthia wouldn't have hired her otherwise, although she's bound and determined to saddle me with assistants that don't know their ass from a hole in the ground. She fucking knows that she's the best assistant that I've ever had and doesn't want anyone else to best her, now that she's Kinnetik's COO. Zoe, however, might have the potential to be the next Cynthia. She has no fear whatsoever of anyone, including me. Her attitude just needs a little adjusting. Don't worry, I fully planned on checking on her in the morning. Plus, I'll make sure Theodore keeps an eye on her until the weekend. Whatever she hasn't been able to reschedule though, I might have to take, I'm afraid."

"That's OK, Brian. I wasn't expecting you to drop everything and spend all your time with me. And I didn't come back just for you, you know? I did plan on seeing Mom and Molly, and the rest of the gang. I need to talk to Michael about the next issue of Rage."

"So, what shenanigans do Rage and JT get into in the next installment?" Brian asked curiously.

"You can't possibly be interested, Brian." Justin replied, remembering the disdain with which Brian treated the marriage issue of the comic, the last issue that came out while Justin was still living in Pittsburgh.

"Sure, I am. After all, my best friend since childhood and my ex-boyfriend create it. I read Rage, why wouldn't I?" Brian said matter-of-factly.

"Ex-b..." Justin stuttered, sat up and cleared his throat, "Ex-boyfriend? I was never your boyfriend. According to you I was just a guy you fucked more than once. Even after you asked me to move in with you, you never acknowledged out loud that I was your partner, or rather, your boyfriend."

"No, I didn't, but that's exactly who you were - my partner." Brian sat up as well and looked at Justin's confused expression. It seemed like no matter how hard they tried to keep the seriousness at bay just for tonight, the past kept intruding through these little revelations. "Justin, I...Listen, are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening."

"It's late. We are both tired. Let's just...Let's go to sleep. We'll talk about everything tomorrow, OK?"

"OK."

They said "good night" almost formally and lay down on their respective sides of the bed, a good two feet from each other. Ten minutes of tossing and turning later, Brian whispered in the darkness,

"Hey, Sunshine, wanna wallow?"

Justin couldn't help but laugh, "Sure, a cuddle sounds really good right about now." he whispered back and moved into Brian's waiting arms. 

* * *

><p>Morning came all too soon, with Brian's radio alarm clock blaring about fire, brimstone and eternal damnation to those who do not repent. Justin sat bolt upright in bed, completely awake in an instant, eyes wide in astonishment.<p>

"What the fuck is that, Brian?"

"Oh, shit! I totally forgot to warn you, sorry. I have my alarm clock tuned to one of those insane evangelist stations. Their incessant screaming about sin wakes me up every time without fail."

"That's sick, Brian, even for you." Justin said, shaking his head.

"Sick, but effective. I got seriously drunk once a couple of years ago and tried to set my alarm clock in the dark. Didn't realize I messed up until this lovely station came on in the morning. Let's just say I was awake and sober in record time. After that I thought that I might as well use their freely provided services, although, I'm sure not in the way they were intended to be used." Brian explained with a smirk. "You can't deny that you are wide awake and sleep is the last thing on your mind right now."

"No, I can't. Awake I am and in desperate need of a shower. You mind?" Justin asked distractedly and got out of bed.

"Why the fuck would I mind? It's your ho..."

"Thanks." Justin cut Brian off in mid-sentence and yawning walked into the bathroom.

"Home...I fucking hate mornings sometimes." Brian muttered and followed Justin to the shower. 

* * *

><p>Breakfast at the Liberty Diner was a long standing tradition between Brian and the rest of the gang, especially on the mornings when Deb was working. Justin was well aware of that fact. He was also more than aware that him walking into the diner together with Brian was going to create a minor sensation within their group of friends.<p>

What he didn't realize and neither did Brian, was that a lot more people around Liberty Avenue were cognizant of their past "non-relationship relationship" and of their break-up over four years ago. Justin's appearance at the diner the day before did not go unnoticed and the rumor quickly spread that Deb's famous surrogate son, the artist, and the only man to have ever gotten under Brian Kinney's skin was finally back in town, and apparently single. The denizens of Liberty Avenue were nothing if not hungry for drama and drama seemed to be Brian Kinney's constant companion, at least up until four years ago. Recently, it seemed, his name rarely held a starring role in the Liberty gossip-mill, which often made for boring gossip, so the appearance of Brian's "non-ex ex" whetted everyone's considerable curiosity.

The gang, though, was blissfully unaware of it all. Deb, afraid of jinxing Justin and Brian's reunion, kept her mouth uncharacteristically shut. She didn't want Michael, in his boundless enthusiasm, to interrupt them in the middle of talking or fucking, or whatever the two got up to in the loft. Michael was too busy with his store the previous day to stop at the diner or anywhere else on Liberty Avenue, so he hadn't heard the rumors. Ben, barricaded in his office at Carnegie Mellon, was grading papers all night and hadn't heard anything either. Hunter was too busy studying and romancing his latest girlfriend to pay attention to anything around Liberty at all. Emmett, who was usually the very first to hear any rumors, was well behind the power curve having spent the previous couple of days in Harrisburg organizing a charity event and not returning to Pittsburgh until well after midnight. Ted having spent the previous day being tortured at the dentist and Blake taking the day off to take care of him, were as clueless as ever that anything has changed at all.

When Brian and Justin walked into the diner, the place was full to capacity with patrons and buzzing with the noise of conversation, clanking plates, glasses and silverware. Their group of friends were all congregated together and occupying their usual booth in the center. At first, no one paid attention to the newcomers until Deb turned towards them and exclaimed loudly, "Sunshine, there you are!"

The next few minutes would've been comical, if Brian didn't find it irritating and Justin embarrassing – the entire diner froze and fell completely silent, even the radio stopped working for some odd reason, and every single person in the place was staring straight at them. Brian, who normally enjoyed being the center of attention, hated the scrutiny in this particular instance, especially after seeing the discomfort on Justin's beet-red face. Brian was about to say something, when Deb unexpectedly came to the rescue by screaming at the top of her lungs,

"Kiki, the damn radio's on the fritz again, give it a good shake, will you?" Then looking around the stunned and curious diner crowd, she continued, "Hey, close your mouths and carry on with your fucking breakfast everybody, nothing to see here!" At her command, everyone, with the exception of their friends, immediately averted their eyes, but instead of going back to their food they began to whisper until the buzz grew louder than before. Brian and Justin looked at each other and knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were the main topic of conversation.

When they approached their booth, Emmett was the first to shake off the surprised stupor. He jumped up and with an ecstatic "Baby, you are back, it's so good to see you!" enveloped Justin in a hug. Then Justin felt like a canape being passed around as he was literally "handed" from one person to another in welcome. With the greetings out of the way, Justin squeezed into the booth next to Hunter, while Brian sat on a chair, that appeared out of nowhere, at the head of the table. Debbie took their orders and then pointedly looking at Justin demanded her keys back.

"Ah, Deb, I thought I could stay with you..." At those words Debbie laughed,

"Justin, honey, who do you think you are fooling? But if it makes you feel any better, fine, keep the keys." Then she turned to Brian, suddenly grabbed his chin in her fingers and turning his face towards hers quietly said, "You! Don't you fucking screw up this time." Then she kissed him on the forehead and marched off to the kitchen to put in their orders.

As soon as Debbie was out of earshot, Hunter looked at Brian and Justin and said,

"So, are you two idiots back together or what?" Michael, in a perfect imitation of his mother hit Hunter upside the head, while Ben, Ted and Blake just told him to shut the hell up in unison. "Fine, fine, fine, I'll shut up. How long are you staying in the Pitts, Justin?"

"A week, why?"

"We should totally hand out one night. I want you to meet my girlfriend. She's an art student at PIFA and will be totally impressed."

"Hunter, you are _not_ going to use Justin to impress your girlfriend!" Ben said, completely outraged, "Any girl that doesn't love you for exactly who you are isn't worthy of you, understand?"

"Yes, dad," Hunter answered in resignation, "I understand. You don't have to meet her if you don't want to, Justin." Before Justin could say a word, however, Michael piped in,

"Besides, no one is going to meet any girlfriend of yours before Ben and I meet her, right Ben?"

Ben was about to respond when Debbie materialized at their table and announced that they can kill two birds with one stone – Justin's homecoming and Hunter's girlfriend meeting the family – by having dinner at her house that night. Michael, Ben, Emmett, Ted and Blake enthusiastically agreed, summarily ignoring Hunter's vehement protests. Brian was none too pleased with these turn of events; he was hoping to spend the time alone with Justin, but he quickly realized that, at this point, he had no choice but to go along. Justin just went with the flow and agreed to everything, as long as his mother and sister, whom he had yet to see, got an invitation. Within minutes everything was settled – Michael nagged Hunter until he called his girlfriend and invited her to dinner; Justin called Jennifer and after announcing to her that he was in town did the same. Emmett dramatically debated whether or not to invite his current squeeze and then decided against it.

"How is Tommy?" Justin asked.

"Oh, baby, Tommy was four months and two boyfriends ago. This one's Toddy or, rather, Todd. He hates nicknames." Emmett answered. "I think this one's on the way out. He's a bit of a bore really."

"Yeah, Em's going through all the T's on Liberty. If they are any U's around they better watch out!" Hunter laughed and earned himself another light smack upside the head. After that, he wisely decided to go to class and after giving a hug to both his fathers and a wave to everyone else, he quickly left.

When breakfast arrived, Brian and Justin attacked their food with enthusiasm, purposefully ignoring knowing looks of their friends. The conversation flowed easily, Justin getting the condensed version of events in everyone's lives since the last time he talked to anyone, which was about a month ago before his fateful trip to Chicago. Halfway through their breakfast, most of their friends departed. Ben left to go to a meeting with the editor of his latest novel. Blake had an early counseling session and a few minutes later Ted got a frantic phone call from someone in the accounting department at Kinnetik. At Brian's needle-like stare Ted said, "Don't worry, Brian, whatever it is, I'll fix it." and hastily left.

Michael was the only one who lingered at the table for another fifteen minutes, but then noticing the time, he suddenly sprang up and yelled, "Oh, shit! I have a collector coming in like ten minutes to take a look at one of my rare comics. I've been trying to unload that thing for a couple of months. I gotta go, guys. Justin, we need to talk about Rage, come by sometime today, OK?" he threw a few bills on the table and without waiting for a reply ran out the door.

Brian and Justin looked at each other in silence for a few minutes. Then Brian said,

"I have to check on a few things at Kinnetik. It shouldn't take long. Would you like to join me?"

"Absolutely."

They unhurriedly finished their food and coffee, paid for their respective orders and with a wave towards Debbie, walked out into the morning light. 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip.<strong>

**A/N: Here's another one. Enjoy and please, please review!**

**P.S. The "Preachers" section was actually from my own life. My very first college roommate was a religious fanatic who insisted on having her clock-radio tuned at FULL VOLUME to exactly that kind of station. I used to wake up exactly like Justin every day for four months. Needless to say I changed roommates at the very first opportunity, which unfortunately wasn't until the second term. I couldn't resist including it in my story because I thought it would be kind of ironic (as well as funny) to have Brian wake up to something like that completely by choice.**


	45. Britin

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 45 – Britin**

When Brian and Justin walked into the offices of Kinnetik, they were greeted by a blond cheerleader-type sitting at the reception desk. Brian was a little taken aback when she chirped "Good morning, Mr. Kinney!" cheerfully. Brian frowned, he had an excellent memory for faces and he was absolutely certain he's never seen this girl in his life.

"And you are?" he demanded.

"Oh, I'm your new receptionist, Jessica, or Jessie, or Jess, whichever. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kinney." She smiled broadly and then pounced on the phone as soon as it rang, seeming to dismiss Brian immediately. "Kinnetik Corp. This is Jessie speaking. How may I help you?" she sang out in a high-pitched, melodious voice.

Suddenly worried, Brian briskly walked towards his office in search of Zoe. He found her at the assistants' desk right outside his office, busily typing something on the computer.

"Zoe, where the hell did Jessica/Jessie/Jess come from and what happened to Beth?" he asked without preamble.

"Oh, morning, Mr. Kinney! I was about to call you. About Beth, I saw her boozing it up at a bar last night, hanging on some loser. She didn't even try to deny the fact that she lied when she called in sick yesterday, so I fired her. I couldn't get a temp on such short notice, so I told Jess, who's my roommate by the way, to quit her job at the mall and come work for Kinnetik instead, on a two week trial basis, of course. She agreed, so I hired her."

Brian was speechless. He was looking at Zoe with incredulous eyes, as if he was seeing her for the very first time. Justin, who heard the exchange, snickered in the background.

"Oh, and I rescheduled almost everything for the next two days for you Mr. Kinney, except the VTC call with Brown Athletics today at 10, as Mr. Brown will be going on vacation tomorrow for two weeks. I didn't think you'd want to miss that." Handing him a stack of stationary notes, she continued, "Here are your messages from yesterday afternoon. Also Mitch in IT and Ted from Accounting want to talk to you, if you have time."

"Zoe, what gave you the idea that you could fire and hire people?"

"You left me in charge, Mr. Kinney. Your exact words were to hold the fort and not screw up. I didn't think you'd want a drunken liar as your executive assistant and I had to get _someone_ to man the reception desk, so I got creative."

"And no one gave you any shit?"

"Of course not! I told them if they had a problem with my decisions they could just talk to you. That's probably what Mitch and Ted want to talk to you about." She shrugged, completely unconcerned. Brian thought for a minute, then looked at Justin with laughing eyes,

"Oh, I can't wait for Cynthia to come back from vacation. She's going to fucking love this!" Then he turned back towards Zoe, "OK. I admire confidence and creativity, so you have a pass this one time, but you are _not_ to fire or hire any more people, understood? You are still on probation until Monday. By they way, meet Justin Taylor." He pushed Justin, who was trying to stay in the background, forward and immediately went into his office.

Zoe's entire demeanor changed from unconcerned attitude to one of awe and she spent the next ten minutes thoroughly embarrassing Justin by gushing about his art and especially his sketches of her. He unsuccessfully tried to extricate himself from the conversation, but she seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of questions regarding his work and his past art shows. He finally saw a way to escape when Brian's roar of "Zoe, what the fuck happened to my coffeemaker?" came out of his office and effectively distracted her. Justin and Zoe walked into the office and she said,

"I had that piece of...I had it thrown out and ordered you a new one. It'll be delivered and installed today at noon." Then she turned to Justin and explained, her voice full of righteous indignation, "I had to go to a Hugo Boss store to pick up a new suit for Mr. Kinney because of that...thing. Hugo Boss! Me!" Then she turned around in a huff and stalked out of the office.

Justin laughed at Brian's expression. "Bring her down a peg or two, huh? Adjust her attitude? I think you've created a monster, Brian. She's going to give Cynthia a run for her money!"

"Ain't that the truth. People rarely surprise me, but she's managed to do that several times since coming to work here. I think I might've finally found myself a decent EA in that little goth princess. I wouldn't be surprised if it was her phone call that made Theodore run out the diner in fear this morning. Excellent!" Brian actually rubbed his hands together in glee.

While Brian was talking, Justin was looking around the office. It has somewhat changed since the last time he saw it. The leather couch was different – longer, wider and seemed more comfortable than the one Brian previously had. It still looked fairly new, but was obviously well used. Justin guessed that Brian has spent a number of nights sleeping in the office. His desk was the same, but held a brand new, state of the art computer, printer and assorted office paraphernalia. A brand new metal bookshelf filled to capacity with binders, file folders and books stood against the wall. A beautiful rosewood credenza, that didn't match the rest of the ultra-modern, minimalist style furniture, but was still somehow perfect in the space, stood by the wall on the right hand side of the desk. It contained a crystal water pitcher, glasses and a large silver tray that, apparently, used to house the now deceased coffeemaker. The framed sketch of the Brooklyn bridge and the Manhattan skyline done in ink and hanging above the credenza suddenly caught Justin's eye – at 60 by 40 inches it was the largest and the most intricate ink drawing he has ever done and was one of the first pieces to have been sold at his art show in Boston. He whirled around towards Brian, who at that moment was doing something in the part of the office that was designated as a conference room. Any comment that Justin might have had flew out of his head as he saw the very first painting he has ever sold in New York at the Emerging Artists Showcase at the Dozier Gallery dominating the wall above the conference table. The adjacent wall in the conference area displayed the second large-scale canvas that Lindsey sold the day of his move to New York.

"You...you weren't supposed to be there." Justin's voice came out harsh; he spoke in fits and starts, as if it was difficult for him to talk, "The one promise you ever broke to me...about coming to my very first show in New York...You never came, but you have a painting that was sold there! When we were together Lindsay had to practically twist your arm to come see my work, now you have several of my paintings from practically half my shows hanging in your office and at the loft...Why?"

"At first, because I wanted to help you. That hovel you moved into at Highpoint Towers, it was too dangerous. I bought the two paintings from Lindsay so that you'd move out quicker. I talked her into keeping her mouth shut about my buying them. Then...Then the bombing at Babylon happened, you moved to New York. The day I had your apartment packed up and your stuff sent to New York, I came back to the loft and realized that you took everything when you left. Everything. There wasn't a shirt, a sock, a pencil – nothing of yours remained. You even took that fucking lemon-scented shampoo of yours when you moved out. You've been gone for weeks, but until that moment I didn't realize that you left absolutely nothing behind. Your art was the _only_ connection between us at that point, so I started going to your shows and buying your paintings as a way to keep in touch. The fact that I truly love your art is an added bonus."

At first, Justin simply couldn't think or speak. When his brain started working again an errant, but crucial, thought zoomed through his mind, but was immediately lost among a hundred others that suddenly sprang up.

"You were there, weren't you? At the Dozier Gallery."

"I was at a cafe across the street. I made a promise to you, but I didn't want to interfere."

"Interfere. Interfere? What the fuck, Brian? How..."

"I am not going to talk about this here! It's not the right place!" Brian interrupted, his voice almost violent in it's intensity. He strode to his desk, punched the intercom button and ordered, "Zoe! Call Leo Brown and reschedule the meeting. If he insists, tell him I have a personal emergency and have Ericka Stephens cover for me, she's second in charge of that campaign. Tell Ted and Mitch they can bloody well wait until Monday." He clicked off without waiting for a reply and with a quiet "Let's go." towards Justin walked out of the office.

Justin stood in the office immobile for a couple of minutes and then slowly followed him out. He caught up with Brian at the door and heard him bark into this cellphone "I don't care how, Deb, just do it! Bye!"

Brian wrenched the door to the Vette open and slid inside. He put his hands on the wheel, leaned his head on the head-rest and sighed deeply. Then seemingly calm again he looked at Justin and quietly said

"Get in, Sunshine. I want to take you somewhere, show you a place. We'll talk there." Justin nodded, walked around the car and got inside. 

* * *

><p>On their way to "somewhere" they stayed mostly silent, save for Justin's question about Brian's conversation with Deb. Brian said that he told Debbie to call everyone and move the family dinner to tomorrow; he refused to give an explanation as to why. The entire trip Justin was wracking his brain trying to remember that thought that escaped him in Brian's office. It seemed important somehow and was lurking in the back of his mind, just out of reach and began to irritate him the longer they were on the road. They've been on the highway for about twenty minutes when Justin said:<p>

"When you said you had to show me something, I didn't think it was in West Virginia."

Brian scoffed, "It's not and it's less than half an hour out of Pittsburgh." Not two minutes later they got off the highway and onto a country road that seemed to disappear in a sea of green. A few minutes later they pulled up to gorgeous Tudor-style house that was enveloped in mature trees and got out of the car. Justin looked around curiously,

"Wow!"

'You should see the tennis court and the pool, and the stables." Brian said and unlocked the door.

"Stables? Who lives here?"

"Uhm...Permanently? No one, at the moment." Brian replied evasively when they walked inside. "I stay here some weekends. The rest of the family use the house on occasion. Gus and the munchers came to stay a few times for the holidays and a couple of weeks last summer. But since I was the one who bought it, the house is technically mine."

"You bought this house?" Justin said incredulously, his nagging feeling momentarily forgotten, and looked around the entryway and at the beautiful staircase that led upstairs. "I thought you hated the country."

"I hated a lot of things that now I don't. It grew on me. Let me give you a tour." He led Justin through the first floor, showing him various rooms. They went to the kitchen first and Justin fell in love with the center island and copper accents on the appliances. He was surprised to see an elegant copper pot rack hanging from the ceiling full of pots and pans, some of which didn't actually look brand-spanking new. It suddenly occurred to him,

"This is where Debbie taught you to cook spaghetti, right?"

"Right. She loves this kitchen, she thought it was downright criminal of me not to use it when I stay here. She figured eggs and pasta would take care of my breakfast, lunch and dinner. She's been cooking Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners here for the last two years."

_Well, that explains the used pots and pans_, Justin thought. "How long have you owned this place?" Justin asked as they walked out of the kitchen through a lovely, but bare, breakfast nook and into a beautiful dining room, which was empty except for a large table that could comfortably sit a dozen people.

"It will be four years in November."

Next they went into a small library; its walls were covered with built-in shelving from floor to ceiling, only a quarter of which, sadly, contained books. The empty room was flooded with light from a huge window and boasted a gorgeous fireplace that begged to have a comfy armchair or two placed in front of it, so that one could read by a blazing fire on a cold evening. The very next room, connected to the library through a narrow door, was a home office. It became obvious almost immediately that once upon a time the little library was a part of this room, but the previous owners divided the space for some unknown reason. Surprisingly, the office was completely outfitted with a desk, chair, computer, printer, fax machine, several shelves, a filing cabinet and another credenza with the requisite coffeemaker. It seemed that out of all the rooms Justin has seen so far, besides the kitchen, this one was the most complete and was the one that was actually used on any kind of a regular basis.

Justin was about to move towards the door, when he noticed another one of his paintings hanging on a wall opposite the desk. It was one of his abstract canvases that was sold at one of the art shows in Los Angeles. Before he could comment, Brian ushered him out of the office and into an intimate looking parlor that had a flat screen TV mounted on the wall and had an overstuffed couch opposite – it seemed this room served as the equivalent of a family room. They walked through it fairly quickly and ended up in a huge formal living room that was empty save for a gigantic Turkish carpet covering most of the floor and two of Justin's artworks: one hanging above the enormous fireplace and another hanging on the opposite wall. The piece hanging above the fireplace was sold at his last art opening at the Arthur Loring Gallery and the other painting was sold at the second L.A. art show. That elusive thought started bugging Justin again, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Frustrated, he opened his mouth to speak, but Brian quickly said "Come on, I want to show you upstairs." and swiftly walked down the hall to the staircase. 

* * *

><p>Justin followed, trailing his fingertips on the windowsill and then on the mahogany bannister that was buttery smooth and had a shiny patina from decades of use. Upstairs Brian showed him each of the guest bedrooms, one of which was obviously reserved for Gus. With the exception of Gus's room which was decorated from top to bottom, the three other guest rooms were barely furnished, with identical, generic looking queen-sized beds and three-drawer dressers occupying each space. The rooms held all the welcome of an IKEA show-room and would have been exactly the same, save for the sketches that hung on the walls – all of them were Justins' and all were sold at different points in his career over the last four years. Justin tried to engage Brian in conversation a couple of times since coming upstairs, but Brian kept avoiding the questions, always staying ahead of Justin and moving quicker then necessary from room to room.<p>

Justin found Brian in the master suite and as soon as he walked in he demanded,

"Brian, please stop running. We are going to have to talk abo..." The rest of his words dissipated on his lips as he looked at Brian standing by the fireplace opposite a beautiful Queen Anne four poster bed. It wasn't the antique furniture that captivated him, nor the fireplace, not even Brian himself, but a couple of pencil drawings hanging above the mantle – the "Angel" and the "Devil" drawings have made their appearance once again. That thought, that irritating thought that Justin was trying to remember all morning crashed into him like a freight train, making him take an involuntary step back.

"Britin Inc...It's _you_! You've been buying my stuff for years... AT EVERY. SINGLE. ART SHOW. God, this was staring me in the fucking face ever since I stepped foot in the loft, why didn't I see it?" Justin thoughts frantically raced ahead "_Brian, Justin – Britin...Britin - Brian and Justin_..." It was a perfect, yet subtle, blend of their names, which is why he never picked up on it in the last four years that a Britin Inc has been purchasing his art work.

"You weren't looking for it, so you didn't see. Listen..."

"Debbie...the family...God, they all know, don't they? Arthur, he knows that you've been my biggest benefactor in the last four years, doesn't he? I asked him, but he...he...they all know. God, I feel like such a fool!"

"Why in the world would you feel that?" Brian was truly shocked by Justin's statement.

"Because I wanted to do this on my own, but now it looks like I owe my entire career to you!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, drop the queen out, will you and think! I didn't buy every single piece you've ever sold, that would be more expensive than a fucking heroin habit and would probably leave me destitute. I bought one piece per show, _one_, except for these two, but they are kind of a pair. And I bought pieces from _most_ of your shows, not all of them. There were several small ones that I didn't have an opportunity to see."

"Don't you see, Brian? All of the pieces or the vast majority of the ones you bought were the first ones to be purchased. You are in advertising, for God's sake, you know better than anyone that people tend to buy what's popular, what other people have or want. Who knows how my shows would've turned out if..."

"That's bullshit, Justin! If your art wasn't worthy of the accolades it has received from the very beginning, my buying a small percentage of your work wouldn't have made a difference in the long run. I didn't make your career or your success, _you_ did! If I didn't buy your art first or at all for that matter, someone else would have and you would have been just as successful without me, believe me! People buy your art because it's powerful and it speaks to them, not because some anonymous schmuck bought it first. As for why I kept buying your work first, well, I didn't want someone else having what I wanted, so I made sure to win at the starting gate. Especially, _especially_ when it came to 'Angel' - that piece wasn't going to belong to anyone but me!"

"OK, OK, I guess that was knee-jerk...Maybe I overreacted..."

"No fucking shit, Sunshine! You used to have more confidence in yourself and in your work."

"I normally do, trust me. It's just been an emotional couple of days. Actually, if I am honest, I haven't really been myself since I saw you again in Chicago."

"Yeah, that makes two of us."

Then something else occurred to Justin, "Wait a minute, how were you able to be one of the first to buy my stuff when you weren't there at gallery openings?"

"Let's just say Arthur Loring and I have an arrangement. He would FedEx over photos of your work that was to be exhibited. I would stake a claim on my favorite piece and arrange for a purchase through Britin, Inc. I usually went to see the exhibits a few days after the opening night when I was fairly certain you wouldn't be there. It's worked really well, except for the Chicago show. I left town earlier than planned and didn't get his package of pictures, but thanks to May it all worked out nonetheless."

"The family, what do they think of all this? Have they said anything?"

"To the women and Emmett this is all romantic enough to be in a fucking Shakespearean tragedy. To Ted it's a great financial investment. In Mikey's eyes it's an obsession, bordering on an unhealthy one. While Blake and Ben have only said that it's none of their business, which, of course, it isn't."

"What has it been to you?"

"As I said, a connection...a connection to you."

"Why haven't anyone said anything to me? My mother, Debbie, Michael..."

"I told them in no uncertain terms to leave it the hell alone. It was, is, and always will be _my_ business, no one else's, except yours now that you know."

Justin was reeling. He knew that Brian has appreciated his talent, at least enough to pay for his PIFA tuition, get him a computer and drawing software to aid his recovery after the bashing and to encourage him to continue his education. But Justin has always thought that Brian had little interest in his art itself, except for the "Angel" drawing. Never in his wildest dreams it would have occurred to him that Brian would closely follow his career for years, pay thousands of dollars cumulatively for his artwork and unabashedly display it both at work and at home...both his homes.

Brian's reaction towards the "Angel" drawing was pretty shocking as well. Justin knew that Brian was sometimes irrationally possessive, he only had to remember his relationship with Michael the year they met. The thing was that Brian was only that possessive with people - certain people, never him - and never things, as much as he liked to pretend to be the biggest label whore on Liberty avenue. But the passion, even emotion, that his voice betrayed when he referred to the "Angel" drawing, made it seem as if Brian was talking of a living entity rather than a pencil decorated piece of paper. Justin truly didn't not know how to react to that kind of attachment on Brian's part, it was so out of character and was completely foreign to him. One of the other things that seemed anomalous to Justin – Brian Kinney always went after what he wanted, without hesitation and he always got what he wanted. So why didn't he do precisely that when it came to Justin himself?

"I don't get it Brian. It doesn't make any sense. If you wanted a connection with me, if you wanted to keep in touch, why didn't you? Why did you cut me out of your life so completely only to follow my life from afar?"

"I didn't want to interfere."

"Will you fucking stop with this 'interference' bullshit! Be honest with me, Brian. I fucking deserve that."

"After the bombing I...I...when I thought you'd died I went a little nuts, to put it mildly. When Jennifer told me you were alive and well in New York I thought that _**I**_ would die from happiness, as dramatic as that sounds, but that's how I felt at that moment...I'll never forget it as long as I live..." Then Brian continued and talked as if a dam had broken and unleashed a torrent of words and feelings. He told Justin about the horrible hours at the hospital waiting for Michael to get out of surgery; watching Ben's pain and fear; processing his own feelings, maybe for the first time in his life, about how and what he felt for all his friends, and finally realizing that they were his family in every sense of that word; processing his feelings for Justin. He told him that he decided without hesitation or fear that he would do anything, say anything and be anything to make him, Justin, happy and if that included marriage and all the other things that Justin wanted back then than he would gladly give those things to him. He told him about the rings. And then he told him of his conversation with Lindsay, of reading the article in Art Forum, of his realization about what those opportunities meant for Justin's future, of his decision to let him go...Brian stopped for a minute as if the dam had finally run dry.

"How could you do this?" Justin asked quietly, belying the fury that was raging within him, "How could you make a decision like that _for_ me, what gave you the right? I would have done anything, _anything_ back then to hear you say this, admit that you wanted a future with me!"

"That's exactly why, Justin. Because you would have abandoned your dreams for me, you would have let an opportunity of a lifetime go. That's not love, that's sacrifice and after five years, hell, a lifetime of selfishness on my part I wanted to do something selfless for a change."

"Don't you realize that four years ago you, _you_ were my opportunity of a lifetime, you idiot! Besides, that's what people do in relationships – they compromise and they sacrifice for each other. They do it because they love each other."

"_They_ do, yes. That's the operative term – _they_. It's entirely different when one person does it for another and loses himself in the process. I was not going to do that to you and to us. There would have come a time when you would have regretted missing out on New York, I am certain of it. I am by far the worst candidate for marriage on the face of this earth and eventually you would have realized it too and you would have resented me for taking you away from your art."

"Brian, you could never do that." Justin sighed in regret. "No one could. Even Chris Hobbs didn't succeed in doing so in the end. I am not an artist because I successfully sell my art in galleries, I am an artist because I am literally compelled to paint and draw, and sketch almost every waking moment of the day; and I could do that anywhere. Selling my art just allows me to make a surprisingly comfortable living. The recognition, the accolades, as you called them, the fame within the art world, none of that was a priority or was as important to me as you. I am resourceful, I would have found a way to have a career in Pittsburgh, but now...now, that's neither here, nor there. That doesn't really answer my question about your staying in touch. So you let me go to New York, to conquer the art world. You could have still stayed in touch, we could have stayed, I don't know, friends."

"Friends?" Brian scoffed. "No, we couldn't be just friends, at least I couldn't. I had to let you go, as much as I possibly could. With the family being your constant cheerleaders it would have been impossible for me to completely forget you and I didn't want to try, but I couldn't have handled seeing you or talking to you regularly. It was easier to stay away, so that's what I did. I stayed away and let you get on and move on with your life. Think about it, Justin, really think about the past four years that you've spent in New York. Think about your art, about your success. You know, _you know_ I was right, that I did the right thing for you."

"For me? Maybe...But you also hurt me, Brian."

"I've always hurt you. That was nothing new. You deserved better. You still do. You deserve something, someone extraordinary. As fucking fantastic as I am," Brian tried to lighten the mood with a joke, "but, God knows, extraordinary I am not."

Justin remembered Jacob saying that when they broke up and the irony of Brian echoing those words almost verbatim didn't escape his notice. _"Extraordinary? Oh, yes you are!"_ Were Justin's immediate thoughts, _"You've always been that to me...extraordinary...someone out of this world...but that was then, this is now..."_

"OK, Brian. I guess I can see where you were coming from. I don't agree with it, but I get it. Knowing you...If I put myself in your shoes, I might have done the same thing, who knows. Anyway, what's past is past, so let's leave it there. I finally feel like I can do exactly that, maybe that's what they call closure. So, what now? Where do we go from here?"

"Where do we go from here?" Brian repeated, "That's one of the reasons I wanted you to come to Pittsburgh. That's why I wanted you to see Britin..."

"Britin?"

"This house – I call it Britin Manor, as does the rest of the family. I thought I mentioned that... Well, truthfully, your mother came up with that name completely independently, not realizing that that's what I called the holding company I created in order to buy your art. Anyway, there's one more room I want to show you. It's on the ground floor, let's go."

They left the master bedroom, Justin turning back with a glance at the "Angel" and "Devil" drawings hanging over the fireplace, suddenly glad that Brian was the one who bought them and not some stranger. It seemed somehow right. He followed Brian downstairs not really paying attention to where they went; the conversation he just had replaying in his mind, zipping through with enormous speed. He felt lighter, all of a sudden, as if an enormous boulder was lifted from his soul and he was almost smiling when they stepped into the most beautiful, sun-filled, fully equipped art studio he has ever seen.

"I hope you like it." Brian said nervously, "This room, this studio is the reason I bought this house. It was supposed to be an investment, but I really bought Britin Manor for you." 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip, as always, except any characters that I dared to introduce.<strong>

**A/N: Whew, this was a long one! OK, I know this was all talk, talk, talk, but it kinda couldn't be helped. The next chapter is going to be a bit dialogue-heavy also, just so you know. Please read and please review (pretty please with sugar on top). This chapter is kind of making me nervous, as I am not sure if I did a good enough job relaying what I wanted to boys to say to each other. The ideas, unfortunately, are better in my head than how they end up being on paper...or computer. **

**As always, a huge, enormous, gigantic THANK YOU to all those following this story! QAF fandom – you are awesome!**


	46. Of Friendship, Obsession and Love,Part 1

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 46 – Of Friendship, Obsession and Love, Part 1**

Justin was astonished, the words "I bought Britin Manor for you" still ringing in his ears. He didn't realize that he was completely silent for over five minutes, looking at Brian with wide eyes and making him more nervous than he had ever been in his life. Brian dealt with that unpleasant nervousness as he dealt with most things – by forcibly pushing it to the back of his mind, focusing on something else and by adopting a nonchalant demeanor.

"Before you moved, you told me that your small, but charmless studio would have to do until your country manor with stables and a pool came along. I don't know what your apartment in New York is like and I don't even know whether you still want a house in the country. But, when I bought it, I'd hoped that this would be everything you dreamed of."

"And more..." Justin croaked, "You are fucking unbelievable! You bought this...this palace?" Justin looked around again, then tightly shut his eyes and shook his head vigorously, as if what he was seeing was a mirage that would suddenly disappear. He opened his eyes, but Brian was still there and so was he, and the gorgeous room was still amazingly real. "I don't get it, Brian. You bought this house over three years ago, but by your own admission you let me go and didn't want to keep in contact with me. That doesn't make any sense!"

"I can't explain it either." Brian replied frowning, "You feel compelled to paint. I felt compelled to buy this place as soon as I saw it, especially when I stepped into this room. I guess subconsciously I've always hoped that someday we'd reconnect and it would be yours. I guess this is 'someday'."

"Mine? What exactly do you want to happen between us, Brian?" Justin asked, feeling a weird mix of apprehension and hope that were warring with each other.

"When we broke up the last time, you told me that you wanted what Michael and Ben have – marriage, a home and a family. If you still want those things, I'll give them to you, starting with this house. So, how about it? How about marrying me?"

"What? Stop being ridiculous!" Justin scoffed and then laughed nervously.

"I am not being ridiculous! I mean it."

"You don't mean it. You detest marriage! You detest anybody who enters into an imitation, heterosexual union that by it's very nature is doomed to fail. Did I get that right?"

"Word perfect." Brian shook his head, "I'm surprised you remember something I said so long ago, but I changed my mind..."

"Well, so have I! I have no intention of marrying someone who by his very nature is doomed to fail."

"Justin, I don't believe that anymore, not about us. When I said that I am probably the worst candidate for marriage alive, I meant that if you discount the money, the loft, this house, my dick, there's not a whole lot I can offer you. I am selfish, egotistical, unappreciative, rude, unemotional, vain, don't forget my legendary promiscuity... But I've been thinking about myself ever since Chicago and I realized that there are a couple of things I _can_ offer you that are pretty good – I am a self-confident son of a bitch who actively pursues what he wants. That means that I will do _anything_ for you. Also, I will always be honest with you. Plus, turns out I am a pretty good dad. Mel even said so..."

"Brian, you've never seen yourself very clearly, have you?" Justin interrupted, "You are a lot more than just your money, possessions, self-confidence and your amazing cock. Mel's right, you are a great dad - you love your son to distraction. You are also incredibly loyal to your friends and those you consider your family. You are generous and patient, and kind..." when Brian vehemently shook his head and tried to disagree, Justin stopped his protests and doggedly continued, "yes, you are all those things. At least you were generous and patient, and kind with me, especially after the bashing. You are compassionate towards those that truly deserve it and you don't suffer fools. You are also inordinately smart and have a wicked sense of humor; you are driven and passionate...and I don't mean in a sexual sense, there are different kinds of passion... You are _all_ those things and more, so much more, and that makes up just the tip of the iceberg of why I was so fucking in love with you..."

"Was, Sunshine? Was? Past tense?"

Justin fell silent, thinking. That feeling of apprehension mixed with hope came back with a sudden vengeance again and the images of constant rejection, dozens of faceless, nameless tricks over their entire relationship and the four years of silence after flashed through his mind. Then he remembered the ease, the constancy and the comfort of his relationship with Jacob; the certainty that he wasn't going to come home and see Jacob with a random guy; the lack of drama and the simple happiness. Jacob turned out not to be "the one" and, if Justin was honest with himself, a little bit of drama wasn't a bad thing, it made things exciting. As for being in love...he truly wasn't sure if he was still "in love" with Brian Kinney. He knew that a part of him would always love Brian no matter what, but he also knew that love alone wasn't enough to sustain a relationship. His past history with Brian taught him that and his time with Jacob confirmed it. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that a repeat of his past relationship with Brian would bring him nothing but pain. Apprehension won and hope disappeared in defeat, so he remained silent, unsure how to respond to Brian's question.

Brian was waiting anxiously for Justin's reply, but five minutes later it was still not forthcoming. He looked at Justin's face – still deep in thought, but uncharacteristically impassive and it shook Brian to the core. _"I am not going to lose him, not like this!"_ he thought and suddenly angry he shouted,

"You used to wear your emotions on your sleeve. I used to be able to read you like a book. What happened? Answer me, damn it! Are you going to marry me or not?" as soon as he said it, Brian regretted it, thinking that he was badly screwing this up, but he couldn't stop himself for some reason.

The urgency of Brian's voice, the sudden anger tinged with fear broke through Justin's uncertainty.

"Brian, thank you for saying it, for asking. This house...it's a lovely gesture. But I can't marry you, or rather I won't. Four years ago...maybe I would have jumped on it, although I knew you well, way too well. Your motto was that you believed in fucking, not love. In the end, I couldn't live with it, even then, and I certainly won't live with that now. It's been too long. It wouldn't be prudent of me to risk...to jump into something like this with you. So, again, thank you, but the answer is no."

"Prudent? I thought I was the unemotional, unsentimental, ultra-rational one. Now, it seems that I am the one willing to lead with my heart instead of my head. I am ready to take a chance on love, as corny as that sounds, while you are hiding behind politeness and pragmatism."

"I am not hiding, Brian! I am just not willing to repeat the same mistakes with you again..."

"OK. You won't marry me. Fine, I'll accept that." Brian interrupted impatiently, "But don't throw whatever we have away. Let me prove my feelings to you."

"What _do_ we have Brian, really? And what feelings are you talking about exactly?" Justin shouted. Brian suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, lightly shook him and yelled:

"I love you, damn it! Why won't you believe me?"

"Do you? You haven't said it. Not again, not since Chicago." Justin said it so quietly that Brian almost didn't hear the words themselves; their tone, though, filled with pain and longing came through loud and clear. Brian realized that inadvertently, without meaning to at all, he hurt Justin again by being verbally stingy. So he struggled for calm, released Justin's shoulders and tried to explain.

"Because those words should mean something, Justin. They shouldn't be thrown around willy nilly like loose change or they lose their power. Think of your parents. I bet they both told you they loved you equally as often, but whom do you believe – your father who rejected you at the first opportunity or your mother who stood by you no matter what? Those words mean shit unless you back them up with action. When we were together I couldn't tell you that I loved you, or I wouldn't, and I did everything in my power to disabuse you of even the remote possibility that I felt anything for you. I screwed up and I lost _the one person_ who meant more to me than anyone or anything in the world. In Chicago, when I said those words to you for the first time, we were naked in bed and you didn't believe me. I haven't said them again because I was trying to avoid the after-sex-I-love-you-cliche. I was trying to show you, not just tell you. I wanted to do it better, to say it right, but I am fucking failing miserably!"

"You are not failing...exactly...It's just that I realized a long time ago that sometimes love just isn't enough. We don't know really know each other anymore, Brian. That's just one of our problems."

"Then get to know me again. If Chicago and last night proved anything that what we have is worth fighting for."

"I've already told you before – sex has never been an issue for us. Maybe that's all we've ever had – just great sex. No, I did love you, I won't discount that. Maybe Michael's right - maybe what we have now isn't love, but lust and some sort of obsession."

"When I mentioned Chicago and last night, I wasn't actually talking about sex, as phenomenal as it was. As for obsession, I don't believe that for a second! Whatever it's medical definition, obsession to me implies something sinister, sick. Someone obsessed would think of his own happiness or satisfaction first and of how the object of his obsession feels last. That's the operative word – object. If I was obsessed with you, you would be nothing but an 'object' to me, an object of unhealthy desire. As much as I've always wanted you and as selfish as I've always been, you've never been just a body to fuck. There has always been something more between us, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, even back then. You've always been a person to me, you've always been Sunshine to me, you've always been Justin to me – never a thing. If I was obsessed with you I wouldn't have let you go four years ago, I would have kept you with me and fuck your dreams, your opportunities, your desires and fuck the consequences. So, no, it's not an obsession, not by a long shot. Sunshine, I love you. And I want another chance with you in order to prove it."

"How, Brian? We live in different states. My life is in New York and yours is here, in Pittsburgh."

"As Lindsay once told me, New York isn't exactly the moon. We can work something out."

"Long-distance? Are you serious? You couldn't stay monogamous with me for a week, hell, a couple of days, when I lived _with_ you in the loft. Now you are suggesting we try this long-distance? I don't do open relationships anymore, Brian. I don't want to go back there, I won't. Not even for you."

"Don't tell me you stayed celibate since you and Jacob broke up."

"Of course not! You are confusing celibacy with monogamy, and a relationship with a one night stand. I've had enough one night stands over the last eight years to last me a lifetime. Since Jacob, I've had a couple of very short-lived relationships that didn't really amount to anything, but they _were_ relationships, Brian, exclusive ones. I am not sure you know what that actually means..."

"Yes, I do. I know exactly what that means because I've actually had one of those."

"You what?" Justin was completely stunned.

"It was kind of an experiment, really." Brian winced in chagrin.

"When?" Justin was looking at Brian with wide eyes, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"A couple of months after you came to Pittsburgh for Christmas with your nerd-boy-wonder-boyfriend. Everyone just fucking loved Jacob Frost, traitors. I couldn't get away from the family talking about how bloody wonderful he was and how happy the two of you were together. Then Mikey started building castles in the sky where the two of you get married, adopt about a hundred kids and ride off into the sunset together. And Zen-fucking-Ben had the nerve to say that it would be great! When I made a few choice comments about it, they all ganged up on me and I was told in no uncertain terms that since I couldn't maintain a monogamous relationship to save my life, I shouldn't be making comments. Especially where you were concerned."

"So you set out to, what, prove them wrong?"

"Exactly! I've always said that it's not that I couldn't, it's that I wouldn't."

"You are not exactly helping your case here, Brian. But, OK, I'll bite. Who was it? How long?"

"Nathan Turner, he's part-owner of Babylon. He was my general manager at first, but that January I sold him half the stake in the club and essentially became a silent partner. He makes most of the decisions, I get involved only when needed; I mostly sign paperwork and get half the profits. Anyway, I was at Babylon signing documents pretty much right after Mikey and Ben's queen out about you and Dr. Nerd. Nate just got dumped by some twink for commitment issues, so he and I got drunk together, commiserated over a bottle of Chivas Regal and ended up fucking at the loft. That was the night I set the alarm wrong. We both woke up thinking the place was on fire, but it turned out the damned evangelist was screeching about hell. Well, we got to talking – we were colleagues, friends, or friendly acquaintances, we co-owned a club together, we were apparently decent in bed together, at least what we could remember. So, we decided to do an experiment, you know, date, exclusively for six months, prove that we could both do it."

"And?" Justin was curious despite himself.

"We were together for six months. Then we broke up, on good terms and we are still friends and we still run the club together."

"You broke up. Just like that? Experiment over?" Justin was slightly skeptical of Brian's story.

"Nate wanted to continue because it was convenient. I didn't want to continue for the same reason. Staying together because it's convenient is, frankly, stupid, as well as lazy. Bottom line was that I proved to myself as well as to everyone else that I could certainly do monogamy, if I wanted to. I also realized that I didn't want to be monogamous with him or anyone else, for that matter, unless it was you."

"I don't know what to say..."

"Then say yes."

"I told you I won't marry you."

"I meant say yes to us trying this long-distance."

"I have to think about this, Brian. I can't just say yes. I guess, I am not as impulsive as I used to be." During Brian's story Justin was rooted on one spot, but now, he couldn't stand in one place any longer. He started pacing back and forth, like a caged animal, thinking. "Brian... God, I need to get out of here and think!"

"Take the Vette." Brian said without hesitation and extended him the keys.

"What?"

"Take it and go. Think. Do whatever you have to do and for as long as you need. I'll be waiting at the loft."

"How are you going to get home?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy. Go, Justin." He wanted to touch Justin, to hold him tight. He wanted to grab him and kiss him and never let go. He wanted to surround him and be surrounded by him, but he knew that he wasn't going to win this way. So, he watched Justin nod and run out of the room. _"Come back...say yes..."_ he thought. 

* * *

><p>Brian paced back and forth in the studio restlessly, then walked through the house thinking of their conversation from beginning to end, worried that he hasn't said enough or said too much. He thought that if Justin saw the house, saw his art, he would somehow know, instinctively, what Brian felt for him. But it seemed that Justin has acquired a doze of cynicism over the last four years and he wasn't as willing to trust as before. <em>"I've waited for four years for this day, subconsciously or not. I can wait a few hours or days, if necessary. I'll give him time, as much as he needs."<em> Brian decided.

Unfortunately, it was proving to be more difficult with every passing minute. He had an excess of energy that he didn't know with what to do. He went to the pool and decided to swim for a bit. It was still a little early in the year for swimming - the cold water shocked him, stealing his breath and searing his skin. He made it about twenty minutes, but in the end swimming didn't help. He went for a run, but the sweat didn't get rid of his worry or frustration either. He thought off getting drunk, but that idea held no appeal whatsoever. Besides, he didn't want Justin seeing him wasted. Brian thought of calling Lindsay, but then realized that she'd be at work this time of day. Plus, she and Mel would probably tell him that he screwed up and he didn't want to hear that kind of criticism at the moment. He dismissed the idea of calling Deb for the same reason. He briefly thought of calling Mikey, but he didn't think that his best friend would be able to give him any kind of solid advice. Brian thought that he was much better off alone in this matter.

After a couple of hours of pacing, thinking and trying to exercise his mood away on his own, he finally gave up. He picked up the phone and called Nate.

"Hey, I feel like punching something. Fancy a sparring match?"

"Absolutely. Are you at Kinnetik?"

"No, Britin. You'll have to pick me up."

"Give me 30." Brian hung up and settled to wait. 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip. <strong>

**A/N: I ended up splitting this conversation "arc" into two chapters, otherwise it would have been way, way too long. Enjoy this little two-parter and please review! **

**A gigantic THANKS to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and in all other ways following this story.**


	47. Of Friendship, Obsession and Love,Part 2

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 47 - Of Friendship, Obsession and Love, Part 2**

**Justin...**

Justin drove west into West Virginia, without any idea of where he was going and without any kind of a plan. He just drove on trying to outrun his tumultuous thoughts, but they kept crowding his already overloaded brain. After about half an hour, he decided that he didn't need to think at all for a while, so he turned up the radio full volume, opened the windows, picked up the speed just past the limit and drove on. After another hour on the highway he realized he had no clue as to where he was, so he turned around and drove back to Pittsburgh.

When he hit town again, he felt like retracing his steps from the day before starting with his childhood home. Three more hours of driving, walking, brooding and thinking exhausted him, so he went back to the loft, still not sure what he was going to say to Brian. When he got there, the loft was empty and it looked like Brian hasn't made his way back quite yet. For some reason, Justin didn't feel right being there by himself, so he left the keys to the Vette on the kitchen counter, picked up the keys to his rented Jeep and left again.

Justin drove back to Britin, but there was no answer at the door, so he decided to check out the grounds that Brian didn't have an opportunity to show him previously. He loved the wooded lot surrounding the house. The gorgeous, mature trees that were probably older than the 80 year-old-house, provided a lot of shade and a few patches of sunlight here and there. Justin thought the tennis court was nice, but since he didn't play the sport, he didn't care one way or another about it's existence on the property.

The stables, however, were what completely captured Justin's attention. It looked like they've been recently repaired, but haven't been used. The building was rather small, with stalls for four horses, a tack room in the back and a hayloft. There was nothing outwardly special about the structure – it was sturdy, devoid of fanciful decoration or architectural unnecessaries. However, the ethereal light that filtered through the windows, the door and the round stained glass skylight in the hayloft, which was the only decorative feature, made the inside suddenly look larger than it was and made it feel like an interior of a church. The complete silence brought a welcome peace from the confusion and rioting thoughts that speed and noise failed to deliver. Justin couldn't resist – he went to the Jeep, got a sketchpad and a pencil that he had stashed there, went back to the stables, sat on the cold, hard floor and began to sketch.

He drew for close to two hours, his hand flying over the pages of the sketchpad. He drew the stables, the house, the rooms within it from memory and ended up drawing Brian, his thoughts never really straying far from the person who affected him like no other. His hand started slightly cramping up from overuse - over the years the strength has returned and he got minor "twinges" in his wrist only when he drew too fast for two long without rest - and he realized that the light was almost gone. He looked at his watch and was surprised to find out that it was past seven o'clock in the evening. He walked around the grounds again, looking at everything in the evening light, then got into the Jeep and headed back to Pittsburgh. 

* * *

><p><strong>Brian...<strong>

While Justin was trying to process his feelings through speed, noise and then through art, Brian was trying to punch his way through the uncomfortable morass of emotions. Nate picked him up, drove him to the loft, where Brian collected his gym bag and they made their way to the boxing/MMA club they both frequented.

Brian has always considered himself a lover, not a fighter and getting into boxing and mixed martial arts would have never occurred to him, if it wasn't for Nathan Turner. That drunken night when he and Nate became more than just friends and colleagues, Nate told him about his past. He told him that for a while, he was stuck in a downward spiral of booze, drugs and men until he ended up in the hospital where he saw some sort of documentary on TV about amateur boxing and MMA clubs. That's when he had an epiphany – punching a boxing bag was a much better way of getting rid of anger and pain, than loosing himself in chemicals, alcohol or anonymous bodies. So, Nate joined a local amateur boxing club in New York, found some balance in his life and never looked back.

After that conversation Brian got curious and when he and Nate began their dating "experiment" he joined him a few times for workouts and got hooked. For the last two years, whenever he felt upset, angry, stressed, overwhelmed, frustrated and even tired, he went to the Pittsburgh Fight Club and punched a boxing bag for a couple of hours, took a class of one martial art or another, or got into a sparring match with Nate. It brought a surprising amount of satisfaction, got rid of his stress quicker and made him feel, and look a hell of a lot better than using the treadmill or weights did at the gym he used to go to with the rest of the Liberty gang.

Nate didn't say much until they were changing in the locker room.

"I heard your ex is back in town."

"I'm glad the Liberty avenue rumor-mill is alive and well." Brain quipped.

"It certainly is and working overtime. I take it things aren't going great, if you are in the mood to kick ass."

"It's all up in the air. Normally I'd just go back to work, but I can't concentrate. I need to clear my head and yes, kick some serious ass."

"Well, I'm more than happy to help, as long as you don't mind my wiping the floor with you." Nate tried to inject some levity into Brian's morose mood.

"Ha, ha. You wish, Turner! Prepare to hobble home!" Brian said as they made their way to the boxing ring.

"I'm going to make you eat those words, Kinney." They got into their stances and got ready to spar, when suddenly serious Nate said, "Listen, for what it's worth, I hope it all works out for the best for both of you."

"Thanks." Brian said.

After a couple of hours of sparring, Brian felt considerably better. After he showered and changed he thought of going to the loft to wait for Justin, but couldn't face the silence. He decided to go to Kinnetik and try to catch up on some work. 

* * *

><p><strong>Justin...<strong>

The closer Justin got to the loft, the more he realized that he was no closer to a decision of any kind. He wanted to call someone – Daphne, his mother, even Lindsay – but he thought that he needed to figure this out for himself. After another hour of aimless driving around and thinking, he gave up and for some reason ended up in front of Michael and Ben's house. He climbed the steps and reluctantly knocked on the door. Ben opened the door and ushered Justin inside. If he was surprised to see him he didn't show it in any way at all. Michael, on the other hand, showed no such restraint.

"Justin! What are you doing here? I thought you were with Brian? Ma moved the family dinner to tomorrow, said that Brian was taking you to Britin to talk. What happened? What's going on between you two?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to do guys." He practically fell into a loveseat across from Michael and Ben and told them everything that happened beginning with seeing Brian again in Chicago and culminating with their conversation at Britin. He talked non-stop for what seemed like forever. "We have this thing between us that keeps pushing us together. We can't seem to keep our hands from each other when we are in the same room together. Well, except for today when we were at the house. I don't know...To say that I am confused would the the understatement of the century. When I came to Pittsburgh, I hoped that we would talk, put the past, everything behind us and...I don't know...be friends...But then Brian tells me he loves me, he mentions marriage, which nearly killed me right then and there. When I refused, he suggested we try a long-distance thing. I..." Justin suddenly stopped talking, his energy spent. There was a few minutes of silence between the three men and then it was broken by Michael's shrill voice,

"Friends?" Michael looked at Justin as if he was insane, "Friends? You are _never_ going to be friends! You'll fight and you'll fuck, and you'll hate each other, and you'll make up. You are going to be _in love_ until it kills you both, but you are _never_ going to be friends!"

"Why does that sound so awfully familiar, Mike? I swear I've heard that somewhere before..." Justin frowned.

"_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, if you must know." Michael said self-consciously, blushing to the roots, "I started carrying the comic book at the store, decided to check out the show on DVD for a little background, and got completely addicted. What can I say, I am a sucker, no pun intended, for angst, drama and a little demon ass-kicking. Anyway, I was kind of paraphrasing one of the best scenes because it totally applies to the both of you. You and Brian, just friends? It's NEVER. GOING. TO HAPPEN. You might as well admit it and deal with it." He shook his head and then snorted, "It's funny..."

"What is?" Justin asked.

"It's like you and Brian switched places or something. Before, _he_ couldn't deal with your relationship, now _you_ can't."

"I love him. I do. I just don't want to repeat the same mistakes again. I am too old for that shit."

"You are 26." Ben laughed, speaking up for the first time. "You have at least a couple of decades before 'too old for mistakes' even becomes an issue. Don't be like Brian used to be. Be like..."

"Like _you_ used to be," Michael picked up his husband's thought, "brave, relentless, optimistic, hopeful, basically annoying as shit and the bane of my existence." Michael joked. "Give him a chance, give both of you another chance. You'll figure it out, Justin."

"Yeah, you will." Ben agreed, "Our money's on you, on both of you."

"Thanks, guys. Question...Michael, you told Brian once that he had an unhealthy obsession..."

"I didn't mean it in that way exactly," Michael quickly interrupted, "I've always known he loved you. He just wouldn't let himself move on. Oh, he pretended like he was the same old Brian-fucking-Kinney and for a while it worked. But, eventually, it became pretty obvious to all of us that it was all pretense, especially when we all found out about Britin. He just refused to talk about it. I said that to him to somehow snap him out of it."

"I have another question." Justin hesitated, but then asked anyway, "That relationship that Brian had with Nathan Turner..."

"Brian told you about that?" Michael asked, surprised.

"Yeah. He said they were exclusive for six months. It's not that I don't believe him, it's just that I can't wrap my head around Brian actually willingly committing to someone... And then he said they broke up because they viewed the convenience of it differently. I don't know what to make of it, frankly. The whole thing makes me even more confused."

"Brian might view it as a committed, exclusive relationship and for someone like him, I'd say it was pretty accurate. But in reality, to the rest of us who aren't relationship-phobic, it was more of an arrangement, a 'friends with benefits' type situation." Ben said thoughtfully, then tried to explain, "Nate's not like Brian. He was with someone in New York for about five years, then his partner committed suicide – no warning, no explanation, no rational reason. He wasn't sick, had no financial problems, had a great family, loved his job. Nate thought they were happy; they planned a commitment ceremony, then 'I love you. Forgive me.' on a note and he was gone. That was it. So Nate was avoiding having a serious boyfriend for a whole different reason than Brian. When Brian and Nate first got together it probably was for convenience and to prove a point to the rest of us. When it ended, however, things were a little different. Nate didn't want to stay with Brian solely because it was convenient anymore, he wanted more from the relationship, more from Brian..."

"Unfortunately for him," Michael interrupted, "Brian heard that you and Jacob broke up. You were single for a couple of months at that point, but Brian was working so much that summer that he missed that bit of news."

"In any case," Ben continued, "as soon as he heard that you were free, he didn't want exclusivity with Nathan, convenient or not. He didn't want to be committed to anyone unless it was you, so he ended the 'experiment'. Nate was with us when someone mentioned that Jacob went to Switzerland alone, he saw Brian's reaction. He knew where the wind blew, so to speak, and when he and Brian broke up he made things easier by talking of nothing but convenience, not feelings."

"So why didn't Brian get a hold of me then? Almost two more years have passed and we only saw each other in Chicago by chance. Why?" Justin yelled in frustration.

"Who knows?" Michael replied, "He didn't want to interfere with your career? He thought you were better off without him? He didn't think he was good enough? Brian sometimes operates according to his own brand of logic that is impossible for us mere mortals to understand."

"Well, he said as much, about my career and being better off bullshit. I guess it's as good an answer as any and it's unlikely I'll ever get an explanation that makes any rational sense. I just suddenly feel so fucking cheated!"

"Cheated?" Ben asked, confused.

"Cheated out of time. If he's loved me all this time...We could have...God! Four years, four fucking years!"

"Justin," Ben said quietly, "Time, or rather, _timing_ sometimes is the thing that makes or breaks a relationship. Maybe you needed this time apart to, I don't know, grow up, figure things out. Look at Ted and Blake, how many times did it take them to get it right? Maybe back then it wasn't the right time for both of you. Maybe now it is. Figure out what you want, Justin, and as Michael said be brave enough to fight for it. As for the past, let it go, holding on to it won't help matters. I know that better than anyone. You were still basically a kid when you and Brian broke up. Now you are a man, but you are still so young. My advise, Justin, chalk up the last four years as valuable life experience and move on."

"Ben's right, Justin." Michael said with conviction, "Think about now and the future. If you want Brian, if you love him, then go get him." 

* * *

><p><strong>Brian and Justin...<strong>

Justin was surprised that he stayed at Michael and Ben's for over two hours. After their conversation, Michael heard Justin's stomach growl and going into a full-on mother-hen mode insisted on making him some food. Ben just smiled and offered Justin a beer.

Justin left the Novotny-Bruckners feeling like his stomach was going to burst from the enormous sandwich that Michael made him, but at the same time his heart felt a lot lighter. He wasn't entirely sure why he went to them in the first place, but then again, that's where he went right after his last break-up with Brian. This conversation and Michael and Ben's unwavering support had a lovely symmetry with the past, and a tiny ray of hope appeared anew.

Justin walked into the loft a little past midnight. The darkness inside for a moment made him think that Brian wasn't yet home, but the soft glow from the orange wall sconce alerted him to Brian's presence in the bedroom. Justin walked up the steps and saw Brian lying in bed, awake and quietly watching him with an undecipherable expression on his face. Justin got undressed, stepped towards the bed and Brian lifted the blanket in silent invitation. Both Brian and Justin remembered that something similar happened before, yet they both realized that the mood and the feeling was altogether different. Justin got into bed and lay down on his side facing Brian and for a few minutes they stayed silent, studying each other. Then Brian whispered,

"I was afraid you weren't coming back..."

"Of course I had to come back...I left my crazy fry cook doodle here..." Justin attempted a joke.

"And here I thought that I was the king of inappropriate humor during serious discussions." Brian sighed.

"Sorry..."

"Don't be! You can say whatever you want, including silly jokes. I am not that good at this heart-to-heart shit, so humor of any kind is actually kind of welcome. Anyway...you are back. What's the verdict?" Brian asked hopefully.

"Before I answer, I have to say something." Justin sat up in bed and Brian followed suit, "Bottom line, you shouldn't have made possibly life-altering decisions for me four years ago. No matter how you felt about me or whether that was done for my benefit, yours or anyone else's. It wasn't your place to decide my future. Don't ever presume you have the right to do that again without talking to me first! Promise me, Brian, or we go nowhere." Justin quietly urged.

"I promise." Brian replied without hesitation, "I'll discuss with you anything that might affect you in the future, satisfied?"

"Yes and I promise the same, for what it's worth. Now, having said that...I spent the whole day alternately trying not to think and doing nothing but thinking, and in the end couldn't come up with any answers or decisions on my own. I was too confused. For some reason I ended up at Mike and Ben's. Surprisingly, talking to them gave me the clarity I was looking for... Ben made a point about the importance of timing. Neither one of us was ready for a serious future together back then. For different reasons, but not ready nonetheless. So, maybe my going to New York was a good thing for both of us in the long run. Maybe because of that time apart it'll be different _now_, especially now that we are both older. The fact that we live in different cities is probably also a good thing, less pressure on both of us. I just really wish you'd talked to me as soon as you realized your feeling had changed four years ago. Maybe we could have stayed in touch, at the very least..."

"Justin, I've been thinking too. In hindsight, right after the bombing I was riding on fear, adrenaline and God knows what. I finally admitted to myself what I felt for you, but Zen-Ben's right, I don't really think I was ready to really deal with it. I hate to admit it, but I think I would have screwed things up back then if you stayed. Maybe four years was too long a time to stay away. But you know what, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that now I am ready for everything with you. Whatever you want – marriage, family or a long-distance thing - I am ready for it."

"Oh, Brian, being ready for something doesn't necessarily mean you _want _it in your life. When we broke up the last time, I told you that in order for a couple to move forward they have to _want_ the same things, move in the same direction. That still applies. Maybe I am being inflexible over the whole monogamy thing..." Justin lay back down on the bed and rubbed his eyes with his hands in apparent frustration.

"Oh, no, Sunshine!" Brian interrupted zealously, grabbing Justin's hands and forcing them away from his face. He looked Justin directly in the eyes and continued "One of those things you should know...I don't go out tricking every night like I used to. Kinnetik has kept me way too busy for that; but even if work hasn't been an issue, that shit had gotten pretty old, not to mention boring in the last couple of years. When I needed someone, then yes, I took care of it, but it hasn't been the focus of my existence in quite some time. Deb and Lindsay say that I have finally grown up. Maybe they are right, who knows. One thing that hasn't changed is that I rarely make promises, but I keep those that I make. If you give me another chance and we do this, then I _won't_ be sharing you with anyone! You'll be mine and I'll be yours, _exclusively_, I give you my word. And I don't promise this because I have to. I promise this because I _want _to. And besides..."

"Shshshsh...Brian, stop." Justin abruptly sat up again and stopped Brian's words with a quick, feather-light kiss on the lips, "Listen, are you listening? We obviously want each other, we have feelings for each other, but four years is a long time. Things are different, _we_ are different. On the other hand, I have to admit that I do want you in my life, so I am going to be brave and hopeful, and optimistic and give this whole long-distance thing a try. You've always been pretty honest with me, so if you are serious and you say you can truly _commit_ to this long-distance thing, to us, then I am going to trust you and do the same. Thoughts?"

"I want you in my life too, Sunshine, that's what this is all about. If the long-distance thing, as you call it, gets me what I want, which is us together, than I am all for it."

"OK." Justin smiled and lay down on the bed, pulling Brian down next to him.

"OK. Except for one thing...One of our - or should I say _my - _one of my problems was lack of acknowledgment. So, for the sake of not repeating past mistakes, let's call a spade a spade, shall we?" At Justin's nod, Brian moved ever closer to Justin until their bodies were flush together lying on their sides, then he said, "This long-distance 'thing' is a serious, exclusive..."

"Relationship..." they said in unison, then Brian continued, "And we are long-distance..."

"Uhm...lovers? Boyfriends?" Justin asked, unsure.

"Oh, come on, Sunshine! Oh, ye who had a 1500 on his SATs way back when, you can do better than that – it starts with a 'p'..."

"Partners?" Justin asked hopefully.

"Partners." Brian answered quietly, but with conviction. When he saw Justin's face break into one of his incandescent smiles, he couldn't help but smile in return. He gently pushed Justin on his back and shifted until he was lying on top, his arms caging his head, his hands fisted in Justin's sunny-blond hair. Brian leaned down and was about to feast on a pair of gorgeous, smiling lips, when Justin's suddenly serious voice interrupted,

"How is this really going to work, Brian? Realistically?"

Brian thought for a minute then whispered, "We'll figure it out...one phone call," then he kissed Justin on the tip of his nose, "one text," he kissed the right cheek, "one email," he kissed his left cheek, "numerous shirts, I'm sure," he kissed his forehead, "one visit," he kissed his chin, "and one day at a time." Then he kissed Justin firmly on the lips. "And it will work, Sunshine, you know why?"

"Why?"

"We are naked, in bed, but fuck it, I'm going to say it anyway. It'll work because I love you, Justin. OK?"

"OK. I love you too, Brian, I never stopped." 

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All QAF related stuff belongs to Showtime and CowLip. The <em>Buffy the Vampire Slayer<em> reference has already been credited, but just in case, it all belongs to the incomparable Joss Whedon and other _Buffy_ writers. No infringement intended.**

**A/N: Thus ends the big relationship postmortem... Whew! By the way, this is not quite the end yet. I can't just leave the boys hanging there. Long-distance relationship...who are they kidding, anyway! Silly boys! (wink, wink)**

**Please read and review – any and all comments are extremely welcome. As always, a huge thank you to all those following this story!**


	48. Long Weekend

**It Was Only Time**

**Chapter 48 – Long Weekend**

After deciding to give a long-distance relationship a shot, Brian and Justin spent the rest of the weekend together. It seemed that they couldn't get enough of each other and not just physically, but intellectually as well. Brian had a voracious appetite for every detail of Justin's life for the past four years. Even though he knew most of the major details, they were nowhere near enough, especially since he got them second-hand from others. He bombarded Justin with question after question about his life and work in New York until Justin, exhausted from talking about himself nonstop for hours, refused to divulge any more details until Brian answered equally as many questions. Brian complied and between bouts of laughter and lovemaking they talked of everything under the sun.

They talked about each of Justin's art shows and his hopes and dreams for the future of his art career. They discussed Kinnetiks' steady rise in the world of advertising and some of the more interesting campaigns that Brian was in charge of. Brian told Justin that he was in the planning stages of opening a small branch of the company in New York City, but the crash in the fall of 08 effectively scrapped those plans and in light of the current economic situation it looked like his dream of a New York office was on hold indefinitely. Justin said that while there were plenty of art galleries that struggled to survive, he was extremely lucky that the Arthur Loring Gallery carried the type of high-end art that seemed to be recession proof. After all, rich people still collected art and the gallery was actually thriving. He considered himself massively fortunate to be among the featured artists at this particular gallery and that his creations were among those that sold, and sold very well indeed.

They talked of friendships old and new: Justin told Brian of his multifaceted relationship with Arthur Loring and his close friendship with his son Andrew; while Brian talked of his ever evolving relationship with Mel, thankfully for the better, and a surprising kinship with Leo Brown that went beyond just business. They talked of their family, both biological and "adopted". Justin said that he hasn't spoken or seen his father since moving out of Pittsburgh. Similarly, Brian cut off all communication from both his mother and sister about three years ago when an argument with his mother over something trivial resulted in her throwing a crystal vase at his head. Thankfully, the vase hit the wall a good two feet from its intended target shattering into a million pieces. Brian walked out without saying a word, only to get an angry phone call from Claire blaming him for their mothers' outburst and demanding money for the broken vase. He hung up on her and decided to finally wash his hands of the both of them for good. He admitted that that decision has been one of the best he has made in his life.

Their conversation about their surrogate family was a much happier one. Justin talked of Christmases with his mother and sister in the City; of various visits from Debbie and the rest of the Liberty gang; of Daphne's move to New York because of a guy. Brian talked of everyone's varying reactions to Britin Manor, Emmett's being the most over-the-top emotional one. He described in hilarious detail the first time Debbie tried to teach him how to make an omelet. His mention of monthly lunches with Jennifer ever since she sold Britin Manor to him completely astounded Justin, who never knew that his mother had such a close relationship with his then-ex. They talked of Gus and discussed in detail their respective trips to Toronto. They talked of the trips the girls, Gus and JR in tow, took to Pittsburgh and New York. Justin remembered Brian's vague warning about Gus "saying something weird" before his last trip to Canada and Brian reluctantly told of his conversation with his son, and his subsequent scheme to win Justin back based off of Gus's "make a commercial about you" idea. That story melted Justin's heart and nearly brought him to tears. He said that Gus deserved a medal of some sort for being an awesome kid, at the very least.

They talked of cities they visited in the last four years and both agreed that they hated L.A., but loved Chicago. They talked of the more mundane things they did over the last four years, such as the books they've read, movies they've seen and music they've discovered. They talked of the 2008 Presidential election and whether or not Obama will fulfill his campaign promises in regards to gay rights.

After a particularly energetic lovemaking session Justin remarked on the changes in Brian's body, which he loved and which turned him on more than he ever thought possible. Brian told him of his interest in amateur, non-competitive boxing and mixed martial arts. Before Justin had a chance to question him further on the subject, Brian pointed out changes in Justin's body as well. Justin reluctantly admitted to being addicted to running every day and occasionally swimming.

They continued to talk for hours – their interest in each other and in each others lives seemed to be limitless. The only topics they avoided for the time being by an unspoken agreement were their respective relationships with Jacob Frost and Nathan Turner.

* * *

><p>With the exception of the family dinner at Deb's on Friday night, they didn't emerge from the loft the entire weekend. Brian tentatively suggested that they skip the family reunion, but Justin nixed the idea, saying that knowing Deb, she'll just show up at the loft with all the food in Tupperware and the rest of the family in tow; plus, he wanted to see his mother and sister. So, they reluctantly left the comfort and the privacy of the loft and arrived at Debbie's door at the appointed time, surprised to see the entire family already congregated there, anxiously awaiting their arrival. As soon as all the greetings were out of the way, Debbie with her hands on her hips looked at them meaningfully and loudly inquired:<p>

"Well? Don't keep us all in suspense!"

With the rest of the gang looking at them with rapt attention, Brian and Justin had no choice but to respond. Brian answered with an exaggerated, overly-dramatic sigh "Not that's it's any of your business, but, yes, Justin and I are back together..."

As soon as those words left his mouth, the room erupted with a loud cheer and everyone ran towards them and smothered them with a round of hugs and kisses. Brian extricated himself from all the commotion and demanded food. Justin just laughed and told everyone, especially Emmett and Debbie, who were both crying, to calm down. When the barrage of questions began, starting with when Justin planned on moving back to Pittsburgh, Brian unceremoniously shot them all down by saying that his relationship with Justin was none of their business and to let them figure it out by themselves. Justin quietly said that he planned to stay in New York and that Brian and he would work things out long distance. That announcement was met with a shocked silence that was broken by Hunter's "Oh, brother!" and Emmett's heartbroken "Oh, baby!". Then Debbie loudly exclaimed "Anyone who even thinks of making bets this time will get their balls torn off!"

"What bet? What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian zeroed in on Deb's comment. Everyone who was present during the family dinner several years ago during Justin's first semester at PIFA and who participated or knew of the bet had the grace to blush and avert their eyes, while everyone else was looking around curiously. Brian looked around the table and finding the weakest link in Ted pierced him with a steely stare and said in a saccharine voice that was completely in contrast with this thunderous expression.

"Theodore... you better tell me what the fuck she's talking about, if you know what's good for you." After a few minutes of hemming and hawing, Ted finally broke down and told Brian and Justin of the bet. Brian was furious, but not just with his friends - he was more furious with himself because he remembered the "zucchini man" and exactly what happened not 24 hours after that dinner.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed and turned towards Justin with chagrin, "Justin..." Brian was suddenly interrupted by Justin who surprised everyone by laughing.

"God, I wish I knew about the bet!" Justin croaked, struggling to control his mirth. "I sure could've used the money back then..."

When Justin realized that he was the only one laughing and that everyone was looking at him, he got himself somewhat under control and then, suddenly, noticed Brian's worried expression.

"Brian, that's all in the past. Starting over means letting go of old shit and beginning again with a new slate, remember? Don't worry about it, because I am not. Besides, you can't fault the guys for something you would have suggested yourself, if it was about another couple. Am I right, or am I right?"

"Yeah, you are right. I would have probably won the fucking bet too. Listen up everybody, are you listening? This time, anyone even thinks of betting, I'll not only let Deb harvest your balls, I'll even help her cook and serve them with linguine and marinara sauce, understood? Good. Now, let's eat, I'm starving."

That effectively shut down the conversation about Brian and Justin's relationship and everyone's attention was suddenly focused on Hunter's new girlfriend, who was extremely flustered under all the attention. The rest of the meal was spent eating what looked like a mountain of food, drinking several bottles of wine and laughing. Justin spent most of the time talking to his mother and Molly, as well as catching up with everyone else.

* * *

><p>After dinner Emmett suggested that they go to Woody's and Babylon for old time's sake. At first, Brian was all for the idea, but he quickly noticed that Justin wasn't so keen to relive "the good old days" his first weekend back. So making a typical off-the-cuff dirty joke he declined the invitation to party and quickly ushered Justin out the door. On their way back to the loft, Justin couldn't contain his happy smile. When Brian asked him why he was grinning so much, Justin replied:<p>

"I'm happy. I don't think there's anything that could have made this evening any better. Well, maybe if Lindsay, Mel and the kids were here. And maybe Daphne and Andrew. That would have made tonight just...perfect. But having almost the entire family together was great, so I won't complain."

"Yeah, it would've been nice having the munchers and Gus here. Having JR around would have made Mikey's day, that's for sure. But, truth be told, I am glad this 'family reunion' is finally fucking over. Now I have you all to myself and everyone else be damned. Hey, you wanna spend the weekend at Britin?"

"Not this time. I'd rather spend our first weekend back together at the loft. It's just...home."

"OK, we'll go home. Listen, Sunshine, are you listening?"

"Why do you do that, Brian? I've always wondered, but never asked." Justin asked curiously.

"Why do I do what?"

"You know, that thing you do – 'listen, are you listening' bit?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Justin?"

Justin looked at Brian's confused expression and realized that he truly had no idea what he was asking. Apparently, Brian was completely unaware of his unique quirk and it seemed that no one has ever mentioned it to him before.

"Never mind, it's not really important. What did you want to tell me?"

"About Britin Manor. Four years ago you wanted a house in the country. The whole stables and a pool thing was your dream, something you aspired to have. I don't know if you still want that. You have your own place in New York now. So, we don't have to keep the house, you know, if you don't want it or don't like it."

"Don't like it? Don't want it? Who in the world wouldn't want it or like it? And my two bedroom apartment in New York is minuscule compared even to your loft. It's decent by Manhattan standards, but I wouldn't even attempt to compare it to Britin. Besides, I've always viewed that apartment as a starting point. So, having some sort of house was always a part of my plan, my dream for the future. I love Britin, no question about it, but whether or not to keep it...well, the decision is yours, just like the house..."

"No, it's ours! I think you are having trouble grasping the concept of a partnership, Sunshine. Let me give you the standard definition found in any reputable dictionary or encyclopedia. A partnership is defined by my, Brian Kinney, owning half of your shit; while you, Justin Taylor, own half of my shit, and any decisions heretofore pertaining to said halves and/or all of our combined shit must be made by both parties...er...partners."

"That's the standard dictionary definition, huh?" Justin grinned, thoroughly charmed.

"Abso-fucking-lutely! So, to sell Britin or not to sell, that is the question?"

"Definitely not to sell. I can't wait to paint in that studio! And, oh my God, can you imagine lighting the fireplace in the master suite and making love in front of the fire? It would be amazing, not to mention completely romantic. Uhm, maybe I shouldn't have said that..."

"Why not?"

"Well... You and romance haven't exactly been on speaking terms..."

"I might be persuaded to make a very casual, nodding acquaintance with romance, given enough incentive..." Brian looked at Justin mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows. A minute later he grew pensive and continued, "Actually, I can imagine it quite well - you painting in the studio, me pounding into you on the tennis court, riding you in the stables, sliding into you in the pool, devouring you in the kitchen and basically fucking you into oblivion in front of a blazing fireplace in the bedroom, the one in the living room _and_ the one in the library... I can imagine all of it and, yeah, it _can_ be, dare I say it, ridiculously romantic. We'll make sure to do it all, Justin, any time we fucking want. How does that sound?"

Justin sighed lustily and with a 'sunshine' smile on his face answered "Pretty much like...heaven."

* * *

><p>Monday morning came all too soon for both Brian and Justin who were exhausted from having spent the last two days and nights hardly sleeping, and doing nothing but having sex and talking. When the alarm went off at an ungodly hour of 6:30 am making Justin jolt awake in surprise, Brian calmly switched off the alarm and reluctantly got out of bed. Justin groaned, flopped back onto his pillow and burrowed deep under the duvet, hoping to go back to sleep. Brian, remembering Justin doing exactly that many times before in the past, was ridiculously happy to see the same routine repeated. He chuckled quietly and went to take a shower thinking that Justin would still be asleep when he left for Kinnetik. Several minutes later, however, a grumpy Justin, whose hair adorably stuck out in different directions, stepped into the shower and glaring at Brian said,<p>

"Brian, do you love me?"

"Yes, I thought we established that. Why?"

"Then for the love of God and all that is holy, will you please change your alarm to something that won't give me a heart attack every morning when I am here in Pittsburgh?" Justin stopped talking abruptly when he saw Brian valiantly trying not to laugh at his mutinous expression, which made Justin irrationally mad. "Don't you dare laugh, Brian! Waking up to that insane station, at full volume no less, is cruel and unusual punishment, as far as I am concerned!"

At that comment Brian lost his struggle and burst out laughing, which made Justin even more exasperated. He watched Brian with narrowed eyes for a few seconds, but unexpectedly, the scene of a naked, wet and sudsy Brian laughing lightheartedly completely disarmed him and dissolved his displeasure. Regardless of his change in attitude, Justin thought that payback was definitely in order. He menacingly advanced towards his lover, moving the shower head out of the way, and growled,

"That's it! You've done it now...this means _war_!" Then he pounced on Brian, tickling him quickly and mercilessly everywhere he could possibly reach – he luckily remembered that being ticklish was a weakness of Brian's. Brian, still breathless from laughter, was caught completely by surprise by Justin's attack and in his weakened state couldn't do anything to defend himself. The tickle war, which Justin was clearly winning, continued for several minutes where Justin's onslaught drove a gasping Brian into the glass wall of the shower on the opposite side, until both of them slid to the shower floor in a tangled, wet, laughing mess.

"OK! OK, I give up!" Brian managed to utter, in between giggles, "New alarm, I promise, just stop fucking tickling me..."

"First, you gotta say you are sorry for laughing at me." Justin said gleefully and drove a couple of fingers into a sensitive spot on Brian's ribcage, making him howl with renewed laughter. "And...and you gotta say you love me."

"I love you, I love you, but I am not sorry, you little shit..." Brian finally managed to grab both of Justin's wrists and stop the tickle attack. Breathing heavily, Brian got his laughter under control and looking up at Justin sitting astride his torso, he whispered, "I am not sorry because it was worth it...so worth it..."

Suddenly, the atmosphere went from playful and light, to intense. Within minutes their positions were reversed - Justin lying on the shower floor and Brian on top, and inside him – with their lips fighting for dominance and their arms clutching each other possessively. Their bodies moved in perfect unison, completely disregarding the discomfort of the unyielding travertine floor and completely unaware of being pelted with droplets of water that bounced off of every surface of the shower from above, of rivulets of slowly cooling water underneath, and of steam swirling all around them.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later they emerged from the bathroom still slightly damp, still slightly breathless, but completely happy. Brian suggested getting breakfast at the diner, but Justin didn't want to break their private idyll just yet. He insisted on making breakfast himself while Brian got ready for work.<p>

After eggs, toast and coffee, Brian was strangely reluctant to leave and loitered at the counter, watching Justin clean up the kitchen. Brian offered to help, but Justin wouldn't hear of it for fear of "messing up his Armani-clad glory".

"So, what are your plans for today, Sunshine?"

"I'll go for a run, a good long run. God, I haven't worked out since leaving New York." At that comment Brian's eyebrows rose in surprise. In his estimation they "worked out" more intensely in the last two days than most people did during an entire week at the gym. However, he decided against voicing his opinion – if Justin wanted to run, he wasn't going to argue. In the meantime, Justin continued,

"Then I'm going to Red Cape Comics to talk to Michael about the next issue of Rage, then lunch with my mother and then..." Justin hesitated, "Then, I was thinking of going to Britin and christening the studio. I have an idea for a new canvas. You don't mind, do you?"

"Well, I was hoping that we'd christen it in an altogether different manner, but who am I to argue with artistic genius? And, no Justin, I don't mind. I've said it before, but I guess it bears repeating – the house is yours, the studio is yours, as is everything in it. You can use it whenever you want without my knowledge or permission. Mikey has the second set of keys to the house – your set. You can get them when you are at Red Cape, OK?"

"OK. Thanks, Brian." Justin came around the counter and standing up on his toes wrapped his hands around Brian's neck and thoroughly kissed him. Brian's arms automatically went around Justin's waist, pulling him as close to his body as possible. When the kiss ended, his arms tightened involuntarily, unwilling to let go. Brian sighed and resting his forehead on Justin's quietly said,

"Shit. I've got to go to the office."

"I know." Then Justin decisively broke the embrace, swiftly kissed Brian on the tip of his nose and grabbing a kitchen towel from the back of a bar stool by the counter swatted Brian on the ass. Justin laughed at Brian's surprised yelp and said, "Go on to work, you slacker! Your employees need you to be there in order to be brilliant, because without you Kinnetik is just another little ad agency..."

"Oh, really? And with me?" Brian said with his usual sardonic smirk, one eyebrow raised in question.

"With you? Well...with you Kinnetik is a shining beacon of excellence and truth in the advertising world; a titan that strikes fear of being crushed in its competition; an unstoppable force of nature that inspires awe, and an intense desire to part with one's disposable income in all consumers who encounter its creations."

"Wow, Sunshine, I'm impressed! That was a damn good bit of ass-kissing bullshit...and damn good copy, I have to admit. If you didn't have a successful career of your very own, I could surely have used you at Kinnetik."

"You couldn't afford me." Justin quipped.

"I doubt that. OK, I'm going. Later?"

"Later."

About fifteen minutes later, just as Justin was about to go out the door for a run, he got a text alert. The message simply said _"Meet you at Britin. 6 pm. Thai sound good? B."_

Justin responded with _"Perfect!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip. No infringement intended.<strong>

**A/N: Hello, my dear readers (if I have any left, that is)! Please forgive the incredibly long absence. I ended up completely scrapping the last chapter and the already written epilogue due to both being complete and utter unmitigated crap_. _I've been valiantly trying to write something decent for a few weeks. Unfortunately, my Muse went on vacation for parts unknown, leaving me stranded and without an ability to write worth shit. So, I put aside my story for a bit and instead read a ton of fanfic on FF and on MW, trying to find my 'voice' again. **

**A few days ago, my Muse showed up out of the blue_. _Apparently, while on vacation she had a fling with Inspiration and wound up pregnant with Ideas, the nerve of her! :) Anyway, my Muse finally gave birth and I wound up with two more chapters than I originally intended to have. You, my gentle readers, will have to decide whether or not that's a good thing_._**

**Please do read and review! Any and all comments will be tremendously appreciated.**

**_THANK YOU_ to those who've read and reviewed in the past and _THANK YOU_ to those interested enough to come back to my story and to read, and to continue to review**** it!**_  
><em>


	49. Yet Another Later

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to sln188, my 70th reviewer (!), and to all my gentle readers who came back to my story after a long absence. Thank you!**

**P.S. Word of warning, there's a description of drug use in this chapter, though it's nothing you haven't seen a million times on the original show. Enjoy!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>It Was Only Time<strong>

**Chapter 49 – Yet Another "Later"...**

Brian's day at the office went considerably better than last Wednesday when Justin came in to town. In fact, in complete contrast to that day, everything was going swimmingly. Zoe was already at the office when he got in, still wearing black head to toe, but her make-up and collection of facial piercings were surprisingly still subdued. His new coffeemaker worked perfectly well and Brian enjoyed what he decided was the best cup of coffee he has ever had at the office. He had an incredibly busy morning catching up with everything that he missed since last Thursday. Ted and Mitch from IT apparently ironed out their differences with Zoe by themselves and had no problems. Miraculously, Ted quickly found two potential replacements for the guy Brian fired the morning of the Wednesday from hell. After taking a look at their resumes Brian decided to interview both of them later in the week.

Cynthia breezed in to the office after nine am looking beautifully rested and tan from her Mediterranean vacation. Brian thoroughly enjoyed her confusion over staffing changes, especially when it came to his EA. He took gleeful pleasure in teasing her with predictions of Zoe's greatness as an EA that would surpass even her stellar record. The asshole client from California called Brian and said that he didn't completely hate the changes that the team in charge of his account proposed on Friday. To Brian, that was high praise indeed coming from such a high-strung diva of a client who just a few days ago threatened to sue. Mid-morning Leo Brown surprised him with a phone call just to make sure Brian was OK. It seemed that Zoe unintentionally made Brian's "personal emergency" sound a lot more dire when she tried to re-schedule their VTC meeting. Brian was rather touched that Leo interrupted his vacation just to make sure he was all right.

By lunchtime Brian was surprisingly caught up with everything that he missed at the end of last week and in a moment of generosity told Zoe to order a catered lunch for the entire office. A few minutes later Cynthia walked into his office and found Brian sitting at his desk, motionless, staring into his phone, with a dreamy smile on his face and what sounded like a quiet hum coming out of his throat.

"Brian are you...singing?" she asked in complete astonishment.

"Of course not, what gave you that ridiculous idea?"

"I heard you. You were humming...definitely humming some sort of tune, though it looks like your singing skills are even worse than your mediocre dancing." She said coming up to his desk. "I won't even mention the goofy grin on your face. What's going on with you? And why were you staring at your phone?"

"Nothing and none of your fucking business, Cyn..." That response, however, was not going to satisfy her curiosity and in a move worthy of a Bruce Lee punch, her arm shot out and she snatched the BlackBerry out of his hands. Before Brian even realized what happened, Cynthia was turning his phone around and right side up in her hands and looking at a picture of Justin taken just that morning right after they got out of the shower. Her eyes slightly widened at the sight of Justin's damp face, sporting his signature incandescent smile and slightly squinting at the camera due to remaining water droplets on his lashes.

"Don't tell me – Justin's back. He is, isn't he?" She asked and without waiting for a response continued, "I knew it! I just knew you'd end up back together – it was as inevitable as the tide. When did all this happen?"

Brian told Cynthia an abbreviated version of events since Chicago, culminating with the weekend.

"I'm not going to say a word about the long-distance thing. You have never been one to follow convention and Justin, is well, Justin. If you guys want it to work, I'm sure you'll find a way. That being said...what the fuck are you doing here in the office when Justin is going back to New York on Wednesday?"

"Cynthia, I am not some lesbionic, clingy housewife that needs her lover's constant presence. He's got shit to do, places to go, people to see. He wants to paint in his the studio at Britin. We made plans to meet up there at six, after work. I do have a company to run, you know?"

"For God's sake Brian, Ted and I are more than capable of handling things for a few more days without you. Besides, you do have a home office at the house, from which you've run this company of yours on several occasions without problems."

"I'm not going to monopolize his every minute, Cynthia. I don't want to be like one of those helicopter parents, or rather, partners."

"Brian, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be close to someone you love. It's not clingy or lesbionic – it's human. Long-distance relationships aren't easy, trust me on this. Go home and spend as much time with him as you can before he leaves for the City. I'm certain he'll want you there. If he wants to paint for a couple of hours, you can go to your home office, close the door and harass me, Ted, Zoe or anyone else at Kinnetik to your heart's content. And the best part of it is that once he's done at the studio and you at the office, you'll be a few doors away from each other and neither one of you has to worry about a traffic-filled commute. Besides, the way you were mooning over that photo of his and, God help me, attempting to sing, it's fair to say that you want to be with him right now and not here."

Brian stayed silent for a couple of minutes, thinking over what she said. Then he abruptly got up, threw a few files into his briefcase and called Zoe at her desk.

"Zoe, I'll be working out of my home office through Wednesday. Cynthia will take over any of my meetings, though I may dial in remotely. Transfer all calls to my cell, unless I tell you otherwise. See you on Thursday."

Brian hung up without waiting for a reply and with a quiet "Thanks, Cyn." walked out of the office.

* * *

><p>Brian arrived at Britin about 45 minutes after leaving Kinnetik, carrying the promised takeaway containers of Thai food and a couple of bottles of wine he picked up on a whim. Justin's rented Jeep was already in the driveway. If Brian didn't know of Justin's plans to paint in the studio, he would have easily found him just by following the familiar sounds of Thelonious Monk emanating from the studio. Brian quietly walked in to the studio and stood by the door, watching Justin paint unnoticed. The scene before him was almost exactly like the vision he had several years ago when he walked through the house after closing the sale. Justin, wearing cargo pants and a t-shirt, was standing in front of an easel by the French doors, with his back to Brian and held a paintbrush in his hands. <em>"One dream down, a million to go..." <em>came an unexpected, embarrassingly sappy, and yet surprisingly welcome, thought into Brian's head.

"Isn't it a bit early to think about drinking, Sunshine?"

Justin whirled around in surprise at those words and seeing Brian leaning elegantly on the doorjamb, smiled broadly.

"Brian! Drinking? What exactly are you talking about?" Justin carefully wiped his paint brush with a tissue, dropped it into a can filled with turpentine and taking a rag that was sticking out of his back pocket started to vigorously clean off the excess paint off his hands.

"_'Straight, No Chaser'? _Didn't know you were a jazz fan." Brian said, watching Justin's familiar "clean-up" ritual hungrily. Until that moment, Brian was unaware exactly how familiar this completely mundane, inconsequential routine of Justin's was to him and how much he missed watching it.

"Your fault, as it happens. You listened to enough Coltrane, Monk and Davis when we were together before that it's now pretty much a part of me. I don't listen to jazz very often, but there are days when nothing else will do."

While Justin was talking and still trying to clean off his hands, Brian slowly walked into the room until he stood right in front of his partner.

"Like today?" He asked and wrapped his hands around Justin's waist, bringing him flush to his body.

"Like today. Brian, you are going to get paint all over you." Brian ignored Justin's protests and kissed him. Justin's hands went around Brian's neck, his fingers curled into his hair and he pressed himself ever closer by standing on tiptoe, and forgetting all about his paint-stained clothing.

"Damn, I might have ruined your suit." Justin mumbled against Brian's lips as the kiss ended.

"Like it matters...I have dozens of these, trust me." Brian mumbled back.

"Thought you weren't getting out of the office until about five?"

"Cynthia kicked me out. Said something about working from home, avoiding the commute and other such bullshit. I didn't want to upset the old girl so soon after her vacation, so I gave her a present of one more Kinney-free afternoon." Brian explained with a smirk.

"Ah-huh." Justin nodded with an 'I'm so onto you' expression on his face. "Clever girl, that Cynthia..."

"Very clever...So, Sunshine, how about we 'christen' this studio of yours?" Brian suggested and began to practically devour Justin's neck.

"Actually, I was hoping the master bedroom would be...ah...'initiated' first, especially that incredible bed." Justin said and sighed in pleasure.

"That can definitely be arranged..." Brian bit Justin's earlobe, making him hiss in surprise, and then proceeded to rain gentle and not so gentle love bites along his jaw.

"Shower..." Justin whimpered, "Paint...need a shower first."

"OK. Don't take too long." Brian sighed and reluctantly let Justin go.

"Five minutes!" Justin promised and ran out the room.

Brian looked around the studio, which finally looked lived-in, with used and unused art supplies laying about on the work table and in the sink, with a barely-begun canvas on the easel and the scents of paint and turpentine lingering in the air. He smiled and walked out of the room, thinking of the hot make-out session they've just shared that was bordering on being romantic. As he slowly went up the stairs towards the master bedroom, his thoughts lingered on the uncomfortable subject of romance. Brian didn't believe in romance, at least not the bullshit Hollywood idea of it; sappy hearts, flowers, candy and proposals on bended knee just weren't his style. It's not that he wasn't capable of planning and executing a grand romantic gesture, he was when the occasion called for it – the dance at Justin's prom was prime example of that. It's just that more often than not, none of that crap was sincere or genuine and it amazed him how many people deluded themselves into believing that a bunch of silly flowers or empty words on a Hallmark card were a sign of "true love".

If Brian believed in anything in relation to romance, especially since meeting Justin over eight years ago, it were moments – unexpected, spontaneous, unplanned. The time he kissed Justin at the prom was one of those amazing moments. Brian only planned on dancing with Justin, but something happened to him during the dance and he momentarily forgot himself and everything else in the world, initiating a kiss that would be forever etched into his memory. He sorely wished that Justin remembered it too. Or when they danced in the street at Pride in the fall of 2001, or when they made love for the first time after Justin's bashing, or their night at the W hotel in Chicago, or the last kiss in the middle of the Royce Gallery – those were the moments, among several others, that stood out in Brian's memory and that he felt were truly romantic.

Brian walked into the master suite thinking again of the make-out session of a few minutes ago and admitted that it wasn't "bordering" romance – it conquered that territory blitzkrieg style. In fact, the idea of a vague dream fulfilled in such a way made him want to repeat the experience as soon as possible. He suddenly remembered another vision of his from that same day and thought _"What if?"._

* * *

><p>Justin loved the bathroom from the very first time he saw it, thinking that it was a palace in itself and that 95 percent of people living in New York City and its boroughs would kill to have such luxurious accommodations. He truly planned on taking a quick, five minute rinse, but soon lost track of time and got out of the shower about half and hour later. He was surprised that Brian didn't say a word of complaint, didn't get tired of waiting and, most of all, didn't join him in the shower. Justin called out to Brian, but got no answer back. Slightly worried, he quickly dried himself, wrapped a plush towel around his waist and went to look for his partner. The sight that greeted him when he walked out of the bathroom stopped him dead in his tracks – the bed was turned down, the windows were wide open with afternoon light filtering through still, sheer curtains, and a bottle of wine was left breathing next to a couple of elegant wine glasses on the little occasional table by the windowsill. But the most astonishing sight was that of Brian – shirtless, but still wearing his dress slacks – crouching in front of a blazing fireplace, carefully rearranging a log with some sort of iron tool.<p>

"Brian? What in the world are you doing?" Justin asked curiously.

"Why, I am shearing sheep, Sunshine!" Brian laughed rather nervously, setting the fireplace tools aside. Then he stood up and continued more seriously, "Well...you were talking about making love in the front of the fire and how romantic it all would be. So, I thought, I'd do this for you...well, for us, actually. If we are going to 'christen' this room, we might as well go all out, do it right, you know..." His voice trailed off as Justin, looking completely shell-shocked, slowly walked towards him.

"Brian, this is incredible, thank you!" Justin said fervently when he stopped right in front of Brian and right in front of the fireplace. They looked at each other without moving for several long minutes, then slowly leaned in towards each other and kissed almost chastely. A couple of minutes later Justin looked around the bedroom, sighing contentedly, but when his gaze came back to the lit fireplace he suddenly laughed.

"Brian, this is ridiculously, insanely, amazingly romantic and I absolutely love you for the idea...but you do realize it's May, right, as well as unseasonably warm? We are going to roast alive fucking in this heat!" Justin laughed again, then whipped off the towel from his waist, threw it in the direction of the bathroom and bodily threw himself at Brian, making him stagger. He attacked Brian's mouth in a searing kiss and then exclaimed, "But what a way to go! Take me to bed, Brian, make me burn inside and out..."

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, the heat really did get to be too much and after banking the fire in the bedroom, they cooled off in the pool and then proceeded to 'christen' the formal living room, though next to a cold fireplace this time. Brian was glad, if not a little surprised, that they weren't interrupted by any phone calls, business or personal. The only people they talked to that afternoon were Lindsey, Mel and Gus, who was beyond ecstatic that Brian and Justin were back together. He said that he was very happy neither one of them would be lonely anymore and immediately demanded that they both visit him in Toronto as soon as possible.<p>

By six o'clock both were starving, but neither wanted to get up from the plush Turkish carpet and floor cushions that served as their bedding. After a minor verbal skirmish about who's going to go get the Thai food from the kitchen, Brian relented under threat of another tickle attack and agreed to go heat up their food. A few minutes later, Brian re-appeared in the living room carrying a cutting board that he cleverly used instead of a tray to transport the microwaved containers of Pad Thai, and a couple of chopsticks. He sat down Indian-style on the carpet, opened a container of food, began to eat and then grinning wickedly said:

"Now it's your turn to get up – we left the wine upstairs in the bedroom."

"You are kidding, right? I just got my food!"

"Oh, no, Sunshine! I got the food, you get the wine, it's only fair. Now, get your bubble-butt up those stairs! I'm getting mighty thirsty." Justin reluctantly got up and went to get the wine as Brian laughed.

They ended up having a rather nice carpet picnic, though very different from the candle-lit, rose-petal, fancy-cheese and imported chocolate kind that Justin dreamed of a few years before. He decided that this spontaneous, naked, "we-are-too-relaxed-from-fucking-all-afternoon-to-give-a-shit" kind of picnic with a plastic cutting board instead of a fancy table cloth, styrofoam containers instead of fine china and rough, single-use chopsticks instead of silverware, was much better, and much more romantic than anything preplanned could have ever been. They took turns drinking the wine straight from the bottle, because in his haste to get back to his food, Justin forgot to pick up the wine glasses. By the time they noticed a lack of stemware, both were too hungry and neither cared enough to get back up. After decimating their noodles and a bottle of wine, Brian got up to get the second bottle of red that he left in the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later, with an open bottle, a couple of plain tumblers and a tightly rolled joint. He lay down next to Justin, poured some wine, lit the joint and sighed in satisfaction.

"Now, that's what I call a naked lunch!" He took a nice long hit and passed the joint to Justin.

"It's after six, Brian, it's officially a naked dinner. Though, I won't argue with you, this little carpet spread, couldn't be more perfect!" He took a hit and hissed, "Damn, this shit is strong!"

"I don't indulge as often as I used to. Rarely, in fact, but when I do, I get nothing but the best!"

"How is Anita these days?" Justin asked curiously.

"Probably not too good, considering she's in prison. Bit off more than she could chew, from what I heard. Tried to move into the 'big leagues', instead of staying a somewhat big fish in a very small pond. I haven't dealt with her or others of her ilk in years actually. This 'good shit' is pretty much all I indulge in these days, other than JB and Chivas, of course."

"Of course. So...how often do you 'indulge'?"

"Oh, every couple of months or so and whenever Deb has a hankering for tuna casserole."

"What? Deb?" Justin snorted.

"Oh, yeah. She has these moments of wanting to relive Woodstock, or her youth, or whatever – good pot, deep, involved, philosophical discussions and tuna casserole. I fucking hate tuna casserole, but she's convinced that I loved it when I was 14 and I don't have the heart to convince her otherwise." Then Brian spent the next half hour telling Justin about some of those involved conversations.

"You know, she'd never do this with Mikey. I mean, she fucking knows he's smoked pot plenty, mostly with me, but she comes to the loft any time she's in the mood to get baked. I wonder why?" Brian mused. Justin thought for a few minutes, then answered,

"Because she can only see Michael as her son, even though she knows he's an adult. He's her child first, a man second. While she may think of you and treat you like a son, she sees you as a man first and always will."

"That's a very good theory, Sunshine, and is another reason why Deb wouldn't get stoned with him. I love Mikey as a brother, always have and always will, but I'll also be the first to admit that he isn't as smart as you. He ain't stupid, by any means, and he tends to philosophize when smoking a joint just like everyone else does. And let me tell you, he can get pretty damn philosophical at times. The problem is, the only thing he can talk seriously in depth about are his comics. As much as she loves him, Deb would get irritated, hit him upside the head inside of fifteen minutes and probably flush the pot down the toilet."

Justin laughed, "You are probably right and that would be the end of tuna casserole conversations for him, as well as for you."

"A tragedy, to be sure." Brian smirked, "Thank God, it'll never happen!"

After a while they fell silent and continued smoking, drinking wine and thinking about everything and nothing. When the joint and the wine were gone, they cleaned up their impromptu picnic, went back upstairs for some quality "wallowing" time and fell asleep without meaning to at an ungodly early hour of ten o'clock in the evening.

* * *

><p>That Monday set the pace for the next two days they spent at Britin, which seemed to fly by in a blur. They woke up and had breakfast together by the pool. Justin went for a run, while Brian hit a punching bag that he forgot he had stashed in one of the closets until Justin returned. They showered together, got dressed and spent their mornings working. Brian barricaded himself in his home office and didn't emerge until around one pm. Justin spent a couple of hours on his canvas and a couple of hours working on preliminary sketches for the next issue of Rage, based off of ideas Mike and he had generated on Monday. Justin found one of Deb's vegetarian lasagnas hidden in the freezer, which they happily ate for lunch for the next two days.<p>

The world seemed to leave both Brian and Justin alone on Tuesday afternoon. Justin had already talked with Michael about Rage and with his mother about her upcoming visit to New York before noon. Brian got most of the things on his "to do" list by lunchtime and left everything else in Ted and Cynthia's capable hands. Though Brian expected the occasional phone call or email in the afternoon, none came and Justin and he were able to while away the afternoon uninterrupted watching a James Dean retrospective on AMC, which prompted a lively debate about who was a better actor, better looking and generally cooler, James Dean or Steve McQueen. In the end Justin declared that Paul Newman was leagues ahead of the both of them because he wasn't stupid enough to get himself killed in his prime and lived to a glorious old age of 83, dying an incredible actor, a known philanthropist and still a damn good looking man even at that age. Brian was forced to agree and the debate ended with them watching a DVD of "Cool Hand Luke".

They spent the evening with the rest of the Liberty gang, who wanted to see Justin before he left for New York the next day. Dinner at the Liberty Diner with Emmett, who was single yet again, Michael, Ben, Ted and Blake felt like old times, but only in a good way. They laughed, joked and made fun of Emmett's recent choice of boyfriends quite mercilessly. Emmett took it all in stride with his usual optimism, saying that his prince will come someday and in the meantime, he was more than happy to kiss, and in all other ways entertain, a whole lot of frogs. Brian said that maybe his problems was that he should be looking for a king and not a prince, considering that he's the biggest queen in town.

After dinner no one suggested that they go to Babylon, but Emmett heavily campaigned for going to Woody's - Chanda Lear was giving one of her famous performances, followed by a recently introduced _Tuesday_ _Open Mic Nite_. Brian didn't mind watching a Chanda Lear show, but watching a bunch of talentless hacks pretend they were on American Idol was just not to be borne. Justin, however, was all for going, since he hasn't been exposed to the wonders of a Liberty open mic night. Brian grudgingly agreed to suffer through what he was sure to be a torturous auditory experience, but said that he expected multiple sexual favors in return. Chanda was in top form, as usual, and gave Justin, whom she hasn't seen in over two years, an enthusiastic hug during intermission between sets.

The second half of the night's entertainment, namely the open mic, was as gruesomely bad as Brian predicted. Emmett, Michael and even Ted swore up and down that the "talent" was usually a lot better, but it seemed that this particular evening the "performances" went from bad to worse. They guys had good time anyway, because Brian just couldn't pass up a glorious opportunity like that to let his sarcastic nature run wild and mercilessly made fun of every single person who had the courage (or the stupidity) to perform. His commentary on what was happening on stage kept the gang in stitches and not to be outdone, the rest of the boys chimed in with their two cents. For the remainder of the night most of the audience at Woody's was paying more attention to their comments than to what was going on at the microphone.

By midnight everyone was ready to leave. They all said goodbye to Justin outside the bar, instinctively knowing that he'd want to spend as much time as possible alone with Brian before leaving Pittsburgh. Brian and Justin got into the Vette and drove along Liberty Avenue towards the highway that would take them to Britin. They caught a red light at an intersection across from a familiar lamppost where they met. Justin studied it thoughtfully and asked as they were driving past:

"Why did you chose me that night, Brian? I've always wondered. You could have taken anyone home that night, why me?"

"It was the way you looked." Brian answered honestly.

"What – ridiculous, laughable?"

"Beautiful. You were just beautiful and so different from everyone else. You weren't pretending or trying too hard. You walked up to the lamp post, leaned against it and just stood there, completely yourself – all confidence, youth and beauty. I wanted you instantly."

"Wasn't pretending, not trying too hard?" Justin laughed in surprise, "I was scared shitless, Brian, so I was doing both. Well, you were pretty high, so it's no surprise you remember it differently."

"I wasn't all that high at that point, Justin. Later, yes, but not right then. Once I walked up to you and started talking your nerves kicked in, as did the pretense, which only made me want you more. It was somehow endearingly sexy, if that makes any sense." Brian shook his head at the memory. "God, you didn't stand a chance!"

At that comment, Justin snorted and, thankful that they were caught at a yet another red light, quickly leaned in towards Brian, captured his lips in a fierce kiss and then whispered in his ear:

"No, Brian...YOU didn't!"

* * *

><p>Wednesday morning wasn't going well, again. Brian was beginning to think that he was cursed with Wednesdays from hell; but then he remembered that he was a rational individual and the suck – and not the life-affirming kind – was probably all in his head due to the fact that Justin was leaving in the evening. Thankfully, there were no major problems, but the various minor issues that continued to spring up kept him on the phone and at the computer pretty much non-stop for several hours that morning. He didn't get a moments peace until well past one when he finally joined Justin for lunch in the kitchen. When the phone rang again just as he put a forkful of veggie lasagna in his mouth, he got so frustrated that he just shut the phone completely off and after lunch barked at both Zoe, and Cynthia to handle the rest of the calls that afternoon themselves.<p>

They were silent and somewhat awkward with each other throughout lunch and while Justin was cleaning up the kitchen. The lightheartedness of the last few days and even of that very morning when they joyfully "christened" the little library adjacent to Brian's home office, was somehow gone and replaced with an uneasy tension. Justin's departure was an elephant in the room neither one wanted to acknowledge or mention. Justin, however, didn't want to end his stay in Pitts on such a note and was the first to break the silence.

"Brian, is something wrong?"

"No, just regular bullshit that comes with owning your own business, especially an ad agency. I'm just irritated more than usual, for some reason." Brian evaded, "You know, I think I'll go hit my punching bag for about 20 minutes. Mind?"

"Of course not. I was thinking of going for a swim myself."

"That's great, Sunshine. I'll see you in half an hour or so, OK?" Brian walked out, as usual, not waiting for a reply.

An hour later Brian found Justin asleep on his stomach in one of the lounge chairs by the pool. He studied him for a couple of minutes and then woke him up for fear of Justin getting a sunburn. Brian insisted on rubbing some aloe vera lotion on his back, just in case.

"How was the boxing session, helpful?"

"Yeah, it was. Sunshine...Justin, look at me." He turned him around until Justin was looking straight into his eyes. "Listen, are you listening? About earlier..truth is, it wasn't all about work, just some of it. I was being a dick mostly because your leaving feels...somehow strange. It's like a déjà vu, that I know for a fact has never really happened. I can't explain it, but it's been irritating the fuck out of me all morning."

"I feel the same way, actually."

"Good, than I am not completely bat-shit-insane. In any case, I don't want to spoil the last day of your trip, so let's just forget it, OK?"

"OK."

"So, when's your flight?"

"7:30. I should probably leave in a couple of hours, say by 5:30, to give myself plenty of time."

"I'll take you to the airport."

"There's no need. Besides, I have to return the rental anyway..."

"No!" Brian interrupted. "I'm taking you to the airport. Indulge me, Sunshine. I'll have your Jeep returned later today, don't worry."

"OK. Thanks, Brian."

"There's no need. There's one more thing we have to do before you leave."

"What's that?"

"Go upstairs to our bedroom and go back to bed."

* * *

><p>Several hours later Brian woke with a start, immediately realizing that Justin wasn't there. The clock by the bedside read 8 pm – Justin's been in the air for half an hour. Brian was dismayed that Justin walked out like that without waking him or saying a word. He looked around for a note, a sign, anything at all and then noticed his cell phone. He picked it up hoping to see a text, instead there was a new voice mail in queue.<p>

"_Hey, Brian. Don't be upset that I went to the airport alone and didn't even wake you up to say good bye. Well, it isn't a good bye anyway, it's 'later'. It seemed cruel to wake you up just for that, you looked so damn peaceful and beautiful asleep. I took a picture of your fine naked behind for my own prurient purposes in order to keep me and my dick sane until you come to the Big Apple for a visit. Anyway, when you get this message text me the word 'later', so I know you got this voice mail and everything is a-OK. Anyway, I love you. You know what? Fuck it! I am IN love with you! Over the course of this week I pretty much came to the conclusion that I am more in love with you now than I have ever been. Deal with that, Brian Kinney! OK, later..."_

Brian listened to that voice mail three times, until he realized that listening to it any more will definitely be venturing a little too far into lesbian territory. So, instead, he carefully made sure that the voice mail was saved and sent a text back to his blond:

"_Later, B_

_P.S. Ditto!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All belongs to Showtime and CowLip. No infringement intended.<strong>

**A/N: A quick note on the general rosy happiness of the last couple of chapters. I know they are disgustingly sappy and bright. I realize that the sugar content in the last two installments is bordering on overload (OK, I kid and exaggerate...it's 3 am in the morning, it's what you get!). My thoughts are that after such a long separation the boys deserve some happiness, fun and laughter (and if Brian and/or Justin are slightly OOT, so be it!). Don't forget, the difficulties of a long distance relationship are looming, so it won't be this easy for long.**

**Thanks for reading and please DO let me know what you think. :)_  
><em>**


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